Via Luton
by Fredrica
Summary: Lizzy and Jane meet the new tenant of Netherfield Park when they are involved in an accident. A variation with all manner of local fauna and a new character, Dr Gregory, which asks the question: could Darcy have possibly done a worse job proposing than canon? 3rd category: Angst. Hunsford fork
1. Chapter 1

"Mr Bennet, Mr Bennet, good news! Netherfield Park is let at last!"

Mr Bennet looked up from his newspaper as his wife hurried in. She had just returned from a trip to Meryton with her younger daughters.

He got up to retreat to the library, casting an apologetic look at his elder daughters who sat together over their stitchery in the sunny window seat.

"Do you not want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.

"_You_ want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."

"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week."

"What is his name?"

"Bingley."

"Is he married or single?"

"Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!"

"How so? How can it affect them?"

"My dear Mr Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them."

She turned to her elder daughters.

"Now Jane and Lizzy you must go to your Aunt Philips in Luton and buy yourself some new things to impress Mr Bingley!"

Lizzy and Jane had been invited to spend a week in Luton with their Aunt Phillips during her recent visit. She had married a Meryton attorney, who had recently inherited a much larger establishment in Luton. She had spent a week at Longbourn, lauding her new metropolis. With a population of five thousand, Luton was far larger than the market town of Meryton, and was well known for its hats. Aunt Phillips had arrived with the most amazing straw bonnet as a gift for their mother, and upon leaving had invited her two elder nieces to join her for a shopping holiday at their convenience. Lizzy and Jane's youngest sisters, Kitty and Lydia, were _not_ happy.

With an exchange of letters it was settled.

The morning of their departure for Luton was cloudy.

"I believe it's going to rain," said Mr Bennet as he surveyed the heavens.

"Nonsense," said Mrs Bennet. "It will clear as soon as the sun gets a little higher in the sky."

The trunk having already been loaded, the ladies kissed their parents, climbed into the carriage, and waved a cheery goodbye. They had only gone two miles past Meryton when, with a heartrending crash, they found themselves tumbling over each other. They landed with a jolt as the carriage came to rest on its side.

"Oh dear!" cried Jane. "I believe the wheel is broken!"

Righting herself, Lizzy stooped in the cramped space, and after jiggling the handle, successfully opened the door upwards, allowing her to stand and poke her head out. John the coachman had managed to jump free and was trying to grab the horses' heads.

"Are they injured, John?" asked Lizzy when he finally got them in hand.

"Not badly, Ma'am. I'll have a better look once I've got 'em free. Are you and Miss Jane okay?"

"Yes John, we are both well," said Lizzy looking for a convenient foothold. She hoisted herself onto her elbows and then her palms, scrambled on top of the carriage and, gathering her skirts around her, jumped off onto the ground. She then replaced John at the horses' heads while he carefully freed them from the tangled traces.

"Looks like Nelly strained her hock, Ma'am," said John inspecting the damage.

It was at this point that Lizzy noted that Jane had not followed her out of the carriage and she went back to lend her a hand. Climbing back onto the body she peered in through the door.

"Jane, are you alright?"

"No, Lizzy I've hurt my ankle."

"Oh dear! Is it broken?"

"Possibly just a sprain," said Jane as she finished winding her handkerchief round her foot and tied it. But upon attempting to stand she found she could put no weight on it.

Meanwhile, John was surveying the damage to the carriage. "The back axle has split Miss Eliza. I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere today, or for the next week I'd wager. I'll have to go back for the gig. You two wait here with the carriage, it shouldn't take me more than an hour."

Then turning to Lizzy he asked, "Do you think we should try to get Miss Jane out before I go?"

Lizzy looked up at the sky which seemed in imminent danger of a cloudburst. "Perhaps she's better off where she is at the moment. I may have to climb back inside myself."

John nodded, then lead Napoleon to a convenient milestone to help him mount: no easy feat on a carthorse with no saddle. Mr Bennet had sardonically named the large horse after the Little General's defeat and exile to Elba. Nonetheless John managed to mount tolerably well, if inelegantly. Nelly was grazing nearby. She would not be going far with her injured hock.

Shortly after John departed cross country, it began to sprinkle. Lizzy managed to unstrap their trunk and wrestle it open. She removed their dressing gowns, and had begun to drape them over the carriage windows for shelter, when she glanced towards Netherfield and noticed the smoke issuing from the chimney.

"Jane, we are very close to Netherfield. The servants must already be present. I shall walk over and ask for help. Two of us can carry you back to the house and we can shelter there more comfortably until John returns."

"Oh Lizzy, we have not been introduced to the new tenant. It would not do to be imposing upon them!" cried Jane.

"Nonsense, the family are not due for another fortnight, it is likely just Mr and Mrs Fletcher getting the place ready for habitation. I shall be right back."

As Lizzy walked up the drive, she realised the fire had been lit in the south wing, which housed the master's apartments, rather than the east wing, which housed the kitchens; so she walked round to the French doors that opened from the library to the terrace.

On peering inside she was surprised to see, not Mr Fletcher, but two gentlemen leaning on the mantelpiece before a roaring fire. Before she could even rap on the glass, both gentleman had turned towards her, and one of them strode to open the door.

"Good day!" he said with a merry smile on his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Oh dear!" said Lizzy. "Are you the new tenants? I had hoped to find Mr Fletcher."

"Mr Fletcher has gone into town with his wife to fetch provisions. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Indeed," said Lizzy, "I'm so sorry to importune you, but my carriage has had an accident in front of your gates! My sister and I were hoping to shelter here until my coachman returns with the gig."

"Of course, you must do so!" said the gentleman. "May I introduce myself? I'm Charles Bingley, at your service," and he gave a deep bow.

Lizzy curtsied. "I am Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn."

"And your sister?" asked Mr Bingley peering around her.

"My sister Jane is still in the carriage. She is slightly injured."

"Then we must make haste! Darcy, we have a damsel to rescue!"

At this point, the other gentleman stepped forward from the mantel.

"Allow me to introduce my friend," said Bingley, "Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Mr Darcy was taller and darker than his friend, quite imposing really. As Lizzy looked at his face, she was struck by his grim expression. Unlike his companion, he didn't look friendly at all. He gave a shallow bow.

"Well, lead the way, Miss Bennet," said Mr Bingley, "It looks like it might start to pour any minute."

Elizabeth hurriedly led the way back down the drive, with the two gentlemen easily keeping pace with their long strides.

"A carriage accident by the front gates," murmured Darcy in his friend's ear, "A likely tale!"

"You are way too cynical, Darcy," murmured Bingley in reply.

However once the high road was gained, the broken carriage was testament to Miss Elizabeth's story.

Elizabeth had almost climbed on top of the carriage once more when Mr Bingley vaulted onto it and hauled open the door.

"Jane," cried Elizabeth, "Mr Bingley has come to help you!"

Jane blushed deep red. Standing over her was the handsomest man she had ever seen. Indeed if he had not been wearing top boots and a waistcoat she might have mistaken him for an angel.

"Miss Bennet, are you badly injured?"

Jane blushed again. "It is my ankle sir. I cannot stand unassisted, and certainly cannot climb out of this carriage."

"Would you allow me to assist you?"

Jane nodded mutely.

Bingley lowered himself into the carriage and after cautiously clasping Jane in his arms managed to raise her to the carriage side. Elizabeth arranged Jane's skirts and helped her to the edge of the carriage, while Mr Bingley pulled himself up and vaulted to the ground.

Grasping Jane once more in his arms, Bingley clasped her to his chest and proceeded to walk off in the direction of Netherfield.

"You can't carry her like that!" protested Darcy. "You'll do yourself an injury!"

"I'm perfectly fine," said Bingley blithely continuing towards the house. Indeed Jane had somehow managed to mould herself around him so as to lessen the weight on his arms.

Elizabeth gathered the damp dressing gowns and stuffed them into the top of the trunk. She had no sooner closed the lid than the heavens opened up.

Elizabeth looked at Darcy's midnight black coat of superfine and brilliantly polished topboots. He was a tall and well proportioned gentleman, who certainly looked very strong, but his clothes proclaimed that he never carried anything out of necessity. For some reason this made her very angry.

"Mr Darcy," she said rather boldly. "Would you mind taking the other end of this trunk?"

By the scowl on his face Mr Darcy clearly _did_ mind. Nonetheless he picked up his end and they trudged back to the house.


	2. Chapter 2

On arriving back at the Netherfield library, Bingley tenderly deposited his precious load into an armchair, placing a footstool under her injured leg.

"Oh dear," he apologised. "the Holland cover is quite dusty. I should have taken it off before setting you down!"

"I'm glad you did not sir, because I'm soaked through, and it is easier to clean my dress than your chair."

Bingley eyed her appreciatively. She was indeed soaked through. He blushed and turned away.

Jane crossed her arms across her chest.

At this awkward moment Darcy and Elizabeth provided a welcome distraction by arriving at the door with the trunk.

After depositing it on the floor just inside the door, Elizabeth ran to Jane.

"Is your ankle hurting terribly Jane?" she asked.

"It throbs Lizzy. I think it may be swelling."

Lizzy carefully untied the handkerchief. As she removed Jane's shoe, her sister gave a sigh of relief. The ankle was indeed much larger than its mate.

"Oh dear, I think it should be elevated more," said Lizzy looking around the room. "Could we use another chair?" she enquired of Bingley.

"Of course," said Bingley, pulling another into service.

"The swelling is quite bad," said Lizzy. "Perhaps it is broken?"

"May I?" asked Bingley.

"Are you a physician sir?" asked Lizzy becoming interested.

Fortunately Bingley was not insulted. "Ah no," he replied, "but I played a lot of sport at Eton and Oxford."

He felt both Jane's feet carefully. Aside from the swelling he could feel nothing grossly amiss.

"I cannot feel aught awry," said Bingley, "but there are many small bones in the foot."

"I believe I have some arnica," said Lizzy, opening the trunk and beginning to unpack it.

Darcy was well aware of the impropriety of watching her unpack her trunk, but he found it was the only interesting thing happening in the room. His eye was caught by a copy of Plato's _Republic_ and a travelling chess set she placed on the floor. Following her hands to her trunk, he watched as a very interesting nightgown and a pair of stays were pushed to one side.

She retrieved a large drawstring reticule, placed it on the floor, and expanded the neck to reveal its contents, which consisted of some jars and bottles, and a piece of bark.

She selected one of the jars and began to smooth some ointment onto Jane's foot. After finishing this operation, she fetched a shawl from the trunk and hid her sister's naked feet beneath it.

She then turned to Mr Bingley again. "Forgive me sir, in my concern for my sister, I did not introduce her properly the first time. This is my older sister, Miss Jane Bennet."

"Your servant, Miss Bennet," said Bingley reaching out for her hand and bowing over it. He did not relinquish it immediately, instead planting a light kiss on the back of her hand before releasing it.

Darcy was duly introduced and an awkward silence reigned.

"I gather your coachman has gone to seek help?" asked Mr Bingley.

"Indeed Longbourn is not far," said Lizzy. "We expect him back within the hour."

Bingley glanced at the trunk. "Given that you have a change of clothes, it might be wise to change from your wet dresses. I'm afraid this is the only habitable room. Perhaps Darcy and I could step into the hall for a moment?"

Lizzy looked at Jane who gave an imperceptible nod. "Thank you sir, if you could draw the curtains before you go, it would be much appreciated."

This was done and the gentlemen exited to the hall, closing the door behind them.

No candles were lit in the hall and the only illumination was provided by a fan light at the end of the corridor. As the gentlemen's eyes adjusted to the darkness, the ladies' voices drifted from the library.

"Lean forward Jane, I cannot reach the bottom of your stays... Oh dear, you are wet right down to your chemise! I suppose it was because Mr Bingley was carrying you the way he was. It really would have been better if he had slung you over his shoulder, at least that way only your bottom would be wet!" There was some giggling.

Outside Bingley bit his fist to prevent himself from laughing. He looked up at his friend who, scowling disapprovingly, stuck his hand into the back of his Bingley's cravat and dragged him off down the hall.

"There is no harm in listening," Bingley protested in a whisper, "it is not as if I was looking through the keyhole!"

"You could not have done so even if you wished it: the key was still in the lock on the other side," replied Darcy.

"Ha!" yelled Bingley triumphantly, "you thought of it too!"

"Certainly not!" said Darcy flushing deeply. "And since when have you been an expert in foot injuries?"

Bingley grinned.

After a short silence Darcy continued, "You should have let me help you carry her. She could've sat upright if we'd made a seat of our arms."

"No way!" scoffed Bingley, "Dibs!"

"Hold your horses Bingley! We have only just met them!"

"I believe Miss Jane Bennet is one of the prettiest girls I've ever met! She smells divine and felt like heaven."

"Bingley, they are only the daughters of a local squire," said Darcy as he shifted uncomfortably in his wet clothes. "If you had studied the map Mr Morris showed you, you would have noticed that Longbourn is a small estate to the southwest of Meryton. You can have no serious design on them: their portions are undoubtedly small. I know you are too much the gentleman to trifle with them in anyway."

Bingley made a face as Darcy wriggled his toes in his boots. _At least, _Darcy thought, _my stockings seem still to be dry_. He shrugged out of his wet tailcoat. Fortunately, his shirt was only damp. He wished he'd had the presence of mind to draw on his greatcoat before heading outside.

"Bingley, let me help you out of your tailcoat. It will not do to stand about in it wet."

Darcy performed this office for Bingley, and the gentlemen were standing there in their damp shirtsleeves when Miss Elizabeth opened the door and bid them come back inside.

She was arranging the ladies' wet dresses over the backs of some Hepplewhite chairs when Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley re-entered.

Jane looked at the gentlemen askance. "Surely Mr Bingley you should change from your wet clothes also?"

"I'm afraid our clothes are still at The Red Lion, Miss Bennet, although our valets should arrive with them this afternoon. We were really only intending to stay for a few days to inspect Netherfield before moving in at Michaelmas. But Mrs Fletcher assures us she can make us more comfortable here."

Lizzy could well imagine this would be so. Although The Red Lion was the best hostelry that Meryton boasted, it was too close to London to be a major coaching stop, and its accommodations were unlikely to suit the tastes of a fastidious gentleman.

"Let me at least arrange your coats before the fire," offered Lizzy, spying another chair in a corner.

"It would be poor recompense for your heroism Mr Bingley," said Miss Bennet, "if you were to catch your death from your wet clothes. Lizzy, surely we have an extra shawl or two in our trunk?"

"Oh, Miss Bennet," smiled Bingley. "Men are not so delicate as females. Remember, we are made of frogs and snails and puppy dogs' tails."

"Speak for yourself, Bingley," said Darcy. "My grandfather died after catching a chill when trout fishing."

Bingley hardly thought this was in the same category, but it did not seem polite to demur.

After surveying the contents of the trunk, Lizzy held out the two dressing gowns.

"I'm afraid these are all I can offer."

The gowns were actually voluminous cloaks: one powder blue and the other pastel pink.

Bingley quickly snabbled the blue one. Darcy scowled at him.

"The blue goes better with my fair hair," smiled Bingley. "The pink one will suit your dark looks admirably!"

Lizzy laughed. "Indeed you have correctly described their respective owners."

Mr Bingley was now doubly gratified in his choice. He wound the gown around his shoulders like a shawl and could indeed smell Miss Bennet's perfume on it.

Darcy reluctantly put the pink gown around his shoulders. It did take the chill from the air.

Shortly after, a knock was heard and Mrs Fletcher entered.

"Ah, Mrs Fletcher you're back from town! As you see, we have some unexpected guests."

Mrs Fletcher curtsied. "Indeed sir," she said taking in her employer's strange attire without a blink. "I saw the Bennet carriage by the front gate. I hope no one is hurt."

"Miss Bennet has hurt her foot, but we hope it is not grievous. Would it be too much to ask for a cup of tea?"

"The fire is not yet lit in the kitchen sir, but I'll see what I can do."

After retrieving some coals from the fireplace in a scuttle, she retreated.

"I hope your accident has not interrupted your plans too greatly, Miss Bennet?" said Bingley. "We have a chaise and four at the Red Lion and expect it to arrive with our valets sometime this afternoon." He looked significantly at Darcy. "It is completely at your service."

Darcy's cheek twitched. In fact the chaise and four was his own.

"Thank you sir," said Miss Bennet. "We were on our way to Luton to visit our aunt and uncle, but our trip will have to be abandoned. Our father will no doubt arrive soon in the gig and decide what is best."

"It will be a squash in the gig Jane, and your foot would be best elevated on the trip home," suggested Elisabeth.

"Indeed," said Bingley, "so you must avail yourself of my offer!"

"You are too kind, sir," murmured Jane.

They lapsed into silence and Mr Darcy's eyes returned again to the volume of Plato and the chess set which still lay on the floor.

"Are you Greeks bearing gifts?" asked Mr Darcy with a hint of a smile.

Miss Elizabeth was not sure how to take this. "Are you implying that we gained admittance to your house by subterfuge, Mr Darcy?" she said boldly.

Mr Darcy blushed hotly. "I beg your pardon Miss Bennet, that was not my intention." _Or was it? _Sometimes the thoughts he sought to hide floated unbidden to his mouth. "I merely wondered if the volume of Plato and the chess set were gifts for your uncle? But my wits seem to have abandoned me. Forgive me for being too forward."

Miss Elizabeth was highly amused by a picture of her uncle, the attorney, reading Plato. "These things are for my own amusement sir."

"You play chess?" blurted Darcy incredulously.

"Yes, sir," said Elizabeth. "Are you perhaps interested in a game?"

Darcy nodded mutely. They sat down at a card table and Elizabeth arranged the pieces. Darcy had been a reasonably good player at Cambridge who had won most of the matches he played against his friends. He wondered how long this game would last.

They were not a dozen moves into the game before Darcy saw he was in real danger from Miss Elizabeth, and devoted more attention to the game.

For her part, Lizzy noted that Mr Darcy had definitely taken a turn for the better. Now that he was concentrating on the game, his scowl had disappeared and his countenance had become more serene. He looked rather cute in her pink dressing gown. His hair was also rather disordered. He occasionally ran his fingers through his wet locks as he pondered his next move and each time the black curls sprang up in slightly wilder disarray. It was a stark contrast to his earlier immaculate and formidable appearance.

She began to amuse herself while waiting for his next move, by thinking of a name for his hair style. It went somewhat beyond The Windswept. _Caught in a Downpour? Three Sheets to the Wind?_

As he made his next move, she noted his large hands, long tapering fingers, and heavy gold signet ring that still proclaimed the aristocrat.

Darcy was beginning to become a little distressed. He didn't feel in control of this game and despite Miss Elizabeth's lace tucker, he was distracted by her décolletage every time she leaned over the board to move a piece.

He was relieved from his misery when Mrs Fletcher re-entered bearing tea, with Mr Bennet in tow.

"Papa!" said Lizzy jumping up and running to give him a hug.

"Dear me!" said Mr Bennet surveying Jane who had been quietly discoursing with Bingley near the fireplace. "I cannot leave you two monkeys alone for a minute without you getting into mischief!" Secretly he was highly relieved that his two elder daughters were not badly injured. He had been quite appalled when he saw the carriage.

While Mr Bennet acquainted himself with the nature of his daughter's injury, Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy hastily discarded the dressing gowns. After being introduced to the gentleman and hearing of Mr Bingley's heroism, Mr Bennet sat down to share a cup of tea and welcome Mr Bingley to the neighbourhood.

During the course of this conversation Mr Bennet surreptitiously surveyed the chessboard. Mr Bennet had been a chess champion at Oxford and his elder daughters had played several thousand games with him. He realised Elizabeth was one move from check. _No, checkmate! Well, well, Mr Darcy... saved by paternal intervention!_


	3. Chapter 3

After tea, Mr Bennet surveyed the Netherfield library in a desultory fashion and remarked that Mr Yardley had not been a great reader.

"Which," he said, "was a pity because the Netherfield library is a much grander room than its equivalent at Longbourn. I hope you can do it justice Mr Bingley."

Darcy bit his lip.

Mr Bennet's comment started a series of reminiscences about the Yardleys, who had inhabited Netherfield for many generations before finally quitting the countryside for London almost ten years ago. Lizzy and Jane had known the Yardley children, and played at Netherfield as youngsters.

"I must admit," said Mr Bennet, "that I did not expect to see you here before Michaelmas, Mr Bingley."

"Darcy and I had hoped to do some shooting before returning to London, but after viewing the gunroom, Darcy refused to touch anything until it had been inspected by a gunsmith.

"Very wise," said Mr Bennet. "Mr Flint in Meryton will do a good job. May I address the deficiency by inviting you to come to Longbourn tomorrow morning to shoot? I have several fowling pieces in good order."

"Thank you, sir it would be greatly appreciated."

"Stay to lunch. My wife, Frances is always keen for company."

"Gladly sir, although I fear we impose too much for a first visit."

"Certainly not," replied Mr Bennet. "The boot is quite on the other foot." Then looking at Jane he added, "no pun intended."

The Bennets stayed at Netherfield until Darcy's chaise and four arrived at noon. Mr Bingley transported Jane tenderly out to the carriage and the trunk was loaded onto the back. The carriage was a handsome equipage in black with a small crest on the door. It was drawn by four spirited matched chestnuts. There were two servants on the box. They were not dressed in fancy livery as might have been expected, but instead wore dark blue coats without adornment. They did not wear wigs, instead their long hair was tied neatly at the back of their necks with a black ribbon. Taking this all in at a glance, Mr Bennet climbed in next to Lizzy, having sent John off with the gig to the wheelwright.

The ladies departed with cheery waves as they headed back to Longbourn via Meryton, where they hoped to obtain the services of the apothecary Mr Jones.

Nelly imposed upon the tenant of Netherfield slightly longer. She grazed in Netherfield's front paddock for two weeks. John the coachman appeared every day to foment her hock until she was deemed good to go.

* * *

><p>Arriving at Longbourn, the steps to the chaise were let down and the trunk unlashed. Mr Bennet, eschewing the help of the Netherfield servants, piggybacked his daughter to the front steps: a mode of transport somewhat less elegant than being carried around by Mr Bingley. Nonetheless the short distance somewhat taxed that gentleman who deemed himself too old for such hijinks.<p>

After being set upon the steps, Jane managed to hop the remaining distance to the parlour.

Mr Jones had not been at home in Meryton when they had called, but his wife had promised an afternoon visit.

Mrs Bennet's complaints and laments regarding the abandoned trip to Luton were loud and long lasting, but upon hearing her girls had made the acquaintance of the tenant of Netherfield and his friend, she became more reconciled to the event. By the evening, she was deeming the carriage accident a great stroke of luck.

Mr Jones arrived around two, apologising for his inability to wait upon them directly, and bringing with him another gentleman, who he introduced as the new local physician, Dr Gregory, recently graduated from Edinburgh medical school.

The gentlemen were led directly to the patient. Mr Bennet extracted himself from the library, where he had been studying Debrett's peerage, to hear Mr Jones' opinion. However, it was Dr Gregory who deigned to provide the diagnosis, gratis, as an introduction to one of the esteemed families of the neighbourhood.

"Try to keep your weight off it, and keep it bandaged until the swelling and bruising have disappeared completely. Is there a sitting room upstairs?" This was confirmed. "Then I would suggest that we carry you up there presently. Live on the upper floor and do not attempt to negotiate the stairs until you can walk without pain. If you must come down, get two footmen to carry you on a chair. If it is indeed just a bad sprain, as I expect, then it should take a week or two to heal. If it is broken, it will be longer."

Mrs Bennet invited the gentlemen to stay for afternoon tea, to meet the rest of the family. This indulgence had never been previously granted Mr Jones who was in no doubt of its origin: Dr Gregory was a handsome young man of medium height with reddish hair and pale blue eyes. As a University-trained physician he could command a much higher fee than Mr Jones, who had acquired his skills as an apothecary and surgeon through apprenticeship. It had not escaped Mrs Bennet that Dr Gregory wore no ring on his finger.

"Dr Gregory, I do not know how your arrival in Meryton could've escaped my notice until now," said Mrs Bennet.

Dr Gregory laughed. "I have only just arrived today Mrs Bennet and I've not yet found a place to sleep. I dropped my bag at the Red Lion this morning, but both their rooms were taken. I may yet find myself sleeping in the taproom tonight."

"So you have decided to set up a practice here in Meryton, Dr Gregory?" asked Mr Bennet.

"Indeed, Sir William Lucas encouraged me to set up an infirmary here. I hope to look at the shopfronts that are available for the purpose with him tomorrow."

"Meryton is only a small market town Dr Gregory. Do you think it merits its own physician?" asked Mr Bennet. "Surely you would do better in London?"

"I must admit I have a grander ambition to set up a hospital for the care and treatment of the sickly and disabled. This is a costly exercise and I cannot afford to do it in London. However Meryton is sufficiently close to London to enable relatives of patients to visit. I was fortunate to meet Sir William Lucas at St James, who offered to act as a patron for the enterprise."

Mr Bennet raised his eyebrows at this. "Well I wish you good luck then," he said as he rose to take his leave. "You must excuse me, I have urgent business in my library."

Dr Gregory was disappointed at Mr Bennet's precipitate departure when the subject of patronage had been broached, but he consoled himself with Mrs Bennet's seed cake, several more cups of tea, and the very pleasant company of his five daughters.

Indeed they were all exceptionally pretty girls. Jane, the eldest, was a beautiful blonde with a serene smile. Lizzy was next in age and beauty, with glossy chestnut tresses and glittering eyes. Lydia, the youngest, was well formed for her age and laughed merrily. Kitty and Mary were also good looking, although he had forgotten which was which.

Upon taking their leave, Mr Jones promised to return each day to bandage and salve Miss Bennet's foot. For his part, Dr Gregory promised to return in a week to view the patient, and gave an open invitation to the ladies to visit the new infirmary once its doors opened.

Over dinner Mrs Bennet lauded the presence of a physician in Meryton and an eligible gentleman at that. "I'm sure Dr Gregory could do wonders for my nerves," said Mrs Bennet.

"Feel free to consult Dr Gregory as often as you wish my dear," said Mr Bennet, "but his bills come out of your pin money. So what will it be: bonnets or nerves?"


	4. Chapter 4

Shortly after breakfast, Lizzy was working on the ledgers in the Longbourn library while Mr Bennet sipped port and read a book nearby.

"Well Lizzy, you may be interested to know that the chaise and four that delivered us home yesterday actually belongs to Mr Darcy, who owns a very large estate in Derbyshire."

"Really? I had thought it belonged to Mr Bingley?"

"One might have jumped to that conclusion on the basis of his offer of the conveyance, but he did in fact use the royal 'we'. You might also have noticed there was a small crest on the door."

"Yes, Papa."

"Can you remember the details of it?"

Lizzy flushed. They had been studying heraldry and here, at the first chance to use her knowledge practically, she had failed.

"I believe there were cinque-foils, perhaps three?"

"Saved by a youthful mind, eh? It is the Darcy crest. Mr Bingley's family is not listed in Debrett's."

"Well that probably explains why Mr Darcy is so haughty. Obviously people without crests are nicer," she smiled.

Their tête-à-tête was then rudely interrupted by several loud shrieks emanating from the garden, which Lizzy immediately identified as issuing from her sister Kitty.

Mr Bennet rolled his eyes. "You had better go and investigate what that is about my dear," he said returning his eyes to his book.

Mr Bennet was an odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, caprice, and indolence. After moulding his elder daughters to suit his notions of domestic harmony, he had retreated to his library and left the upbringing of his three younger daughters to his wife. As this lady became more nervous and discontented as her husband began to show the signs of old age, this duty had now largely fallen to the two eldest sisters.

Lizzy arrived in the back garden to find Lydia chasing Kitty with a large dead snake. Kitty issued more shrieks.

"Put that down Lydia," Lizzy scolded, "and act your age, not your shoe size. Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy will be here soon."

The words had no sooner issued from her mouth than two horses were seen coming through the front gate followed by a hound: the gentlemen had arrived for their shooting party. The ladies hurriedly divested themselves of the serpent.

After the visitors set out with Mr Bennet in search of sport, Kitty and Lydia escaped into the sunshine to play on the swing. Mary went off to the parlour to practice her music. Jane, who had been carried down by her sisters, sat at her embroidery while Elizabeth read aloud from the latest novel; and Mrs Bennet supervised setting of the table for the lunch which was to be served upon the gentlemen's return.

Around noon the sounds of this domestic bliss were again disrupted by Kitty's screaming.

Lizzy looked at Jane, "No doubt Lydia has retrieved that dead snake and is making more mischief."

With a sigh, Lizzy put down her book and opened the door to the garden. She had no sooner done this than Kitty burst into the room, hitting her sister on the shoulder in her hurry to enter, and thrusting her aside. She was shortly followed by Mr Bennet's goat which chased Kitty through the room into the interior of the house. The two had no sooner disappeared when a hound followed through the garden door and joined the cavalcade.

Regaining her wits, Lizzy bounded after the hound into the hallway. She arrived to find it standing outside the closed parlour door. Behind the door, more screaming and a general rumpus could be heard. She had no sooner grabbed the hound by the collar, when the parlour door was reopened by Kitty, who attempted to make an escape. Upon opening of this portal, the hound, seeing his quarry, attempted to leap forward; but was held fast by Lizzy, although her arm was nearly jerked from its socket.

It was at this point that she managed to view the devastation in the parlour, which at first glance consisted of an upturned pot plant and the vision of Mary sitting frozen on the piano stool, eyes locked with the goat that stood atop the piano. Into this tableau, the gentleman stepped into the hallway.

As Lizzy turned to survey them, the hound gave a happy bark in the direction of Mr Darcy, who viewed the scene with a look of utmost mortification on his face.

Lizzy turned to him coolly. "Mr Darcy, is this your hound?"

Mr Darcy's first thought upon encountering Miss Elizabeth was that he beheld a vision of Diana, the Huntress. But upon perceiving the martial light in her eye, he thought instead of Bellona, the goddess of war. The dog was clearly now aware that he had committed a faux pas, and licked Lizzy's hand, as if in atonement. For his part, Mr Darcy could only hope to live vicariously.

"My sincere apologies, Miss Elizabeth," said Darcy striding forward to take the hound by the collar. "He is but a year old and clearly forgot himself."

Lydia burst out laughing as she entered the parlour and surveyed the devastation. She grabbed the goat by its horns. "Lord Mary, were you playing a pastorale?" she guffawed as she pulled the goat from its perch and hauled it off towards its usual habitat in the back garden.

After general straightening, it was found that the only permanent marks of the incident were a few deep gouges on the top of the piano. After the visitors offered several more apologies, Mr Bennet silenced the issue by remarking that no doubt the piano would sound just as well despite its _fortitudes_, glancing at Lizzy to note if she'd appreciated his wordplay.

The gentlemen left after lunch, during which several well-earned compliments were directed towards Mrs Bennet, who, despite the fact that she had been unable to procure a decent piece of fish In Meryton, had managed to present a very appetising board.

Upon taking his leave, Mr Bingley expressed his wish to meet again after Michaelmas, once he had returned to Netherfield. Mrs Bennet apprised him of the upcoming assembly in Meryton and he gladly promised to attend with a larger party.

The goat incident was mulled over several times during the afternoon before being put to bed for posterity.

"Lord you should have seen the look on your face, Kitty, when the goat started chasing you!" said Lydia; "and yours too, Mary! when it was standing on top of the piano!"

Mr Bennet looked at Lydia, "And I suppose you, my dear, were the initiator of the whole incident?"

"I was only chasing Kitty with the snake. I don't know why the goat joined in, perhaps it just wanted to have some fun, but once Mr Darcy's dog started after the goat, the chase was on, tally-ho!"

"Well if Mr Darcy was in any doubt that he had the entered the countryside, I'm sure he has none now," joked Lizzy, but privately she was mortified.

Mrs Bennet refused to believe Kitty's tales of how large the snake had been, declaring that no such viper existed in England. Arriving later in the afternoon to tend Jane's foot, Mr Jones was very interested to hear the story of the snake and went off with Lydia to view the specimen. He declared it to be an Asclepian snake, an introduced species, and took it off to his rooms to pickle in a jar.

One week later the ladies were surprised by the delivery of a handsome new pianoforte directed to Miss Mary Bennet, compliments of Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy.


	5. Chapter 5

Having regained London, Mr Darcy wasn't eager to accompany his friend back to Netherfield. Miss Elizabeth Bennet occupied his thoughts more than he would like. His original impetus in accompanying his friend to Hertfordshire had been to give his opinion on the property Bingley was considering leasing. Indeed, if Bingley found the property to his liking he had the option to buy.

Darcy found himself strangely attracted to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She was beautiful, he would admit that, but he had been pursued by much greater beauties... No, there was something more that drew him to her. She seemed to glow with life: the way her eyes flashed when she was angry! But she was no termagant. She kept it all bottled up, bubbling under the surface.

But she was ineligible, so sadly ineligible. What had Mrs Lucas said? - the property entailed, and only their mother's £5000 dowry to split between the daughters. He would need to do better than that to offset Georgiana's dowry of £40,000.

But Bingley was being quite insistent that he could not do without him. Indeed Charles had no experience with estate management. Netherfield would need to be got in order and a reliable steward found.

Frankly, the prospect of staying in London with a despondent Georgiana depressed him. His sister had been more deeply affected by the incident with Wickham than he had foreseen. He had wanted to stay and comfort her. But her new companion, Mrs Annersley, had thought it would be better for him to go: that part of Georgiana's grief was her deep mortification at having disappointed her beloved brother, who had been more like a father to her. His presence was a constant reminder. She could find her equilibrium better without him.

And Miss Elizabeth Bennet? There was nothing between them. She was a passing fancy. Surely Hertfordshire was big enough for the two of them? He would go.

* * *

><p>At Longbourn, the ladies were primping themselves for the assembly. A week after the carriage accident, Elizabeth had headed off to Luton with Mary to visit Aunt Philips. Jane, sadly, had not been sufficiently recovered to go. But Mrs Bennet had been insistent: superior goods to those that could be obtained in Meryton <em>must<em> be acquired before the gentlemen returned to Netherfield. And so the sisters had gone, and returned a week later with several delightful new straw bonnets to decorate, and all manner of haberdashery that could be fashioned into new ball gowns for them all.

They had then indulged in an orgy of dressmaking unrivalled in the family's history. For not just the tenant of Netherfield, but _three_ eligible gentlemen had been thrown into their orbit - and Mrs Bennet was determined, for her daughters' sakes, to make the best of it.

Mrs Bennet was quite gratified that Jane had already caught Mr Bingley's eye, and was even more so when she learnt from Mrs Long that he had five thousand a year. But she had hastily revised her plans upon hearing second-hand information from Mrs Lucas that Mr Darcy was of _twice_ Mr Bingley's consequence, having a clear ten thousand a year.

"Mr Bingley's fortune is _nothing_ to it!" she had declared to Mr Bennet who had hastily retreated to his library. He already knew from Debrett's that Mr Darcy was of higher consequence, but he found his wife's talk of money to be quite vulgar.

It had all been thus settled in Mrs Bennet's mind. She had advised Jane, as the acknowledged beauty and the eldest, to turn her attention to Mr Darcy. Mr Bingley would be an eligible catch for Lizzy, and Mary's serious nature would make her an ideal wife for a working gentleman such as Dr Gregory. The selected daughters cast anxious looks at each other.

Dr Gregory had returned, as promised, a week after Jane's unfortunate accident to check on his patient. He had declared her to be progressing well, and had been invited to sit down once again to take tea with the ladies. He had taken lodgings with the Lucases and hired a shopfront for the infirmary, having made an arrangement to share the establishment with Mr Jones. The rooms were being fitted out as they spoke, and he cordially invited the ladies to visit for the grand opening.

On the following Wednesday, the finishing touches were being added to the sign declaring "Meryton Infirmary" when the ladies arrived for their tour. The front of the shop had been fitted out as a dispensary for Mr Jones, and behind this, a small room had been turned into a surgery. It had seen service within an hour of the front doors opening, when Mr Jones had removed a rusty pitchfork from the foot of Little Johnny Lucas.

A large back room of the shop, which had a pleasant aspect over the backyard garden, had been fitted out sumptuously as a study and consulting room for Dr Gregory. Lizzy gasped at the library which was an impressive one. Dr Gregory proudly showed her tomes from Vesalius and Harvey; as well as copies of historical texts from Hippocrates, Galen and Avicenna.

Lydia was amazed by the sheer number of books. "Lord, you have more books than the circulating library!" But she was disappointed to discover there was not a single novel among them.

Jane's foot was again examined, and Dr Gregory subsequently conducted the Bennet ladies upstairs to a series of small private rooms where patients could be cupped, leeches could be applied, and other ailments treated. Lizzy was greatly impressed at the state of modern medicine.

After leaving the infirmary, the ladies made some last minute purchases for the assembly and then piled back into the carriage for the trip home.

Jane was very excited at the possibility of seeing Mr Bingley again. The carriage accident had been such a weird anomaly in her life that she had begun to believe that she'd dreamt it. When the bruising had faded from her foot she no longer had any evidence of its occurrence.

Lizzy had no such doubts. Word was that an impressive travelling carriage had arrived at Netherfield yesterday carrying a large party including Mr Bingley. Lizzy had spent hours twining Jane's hair into an elaborate renaissance style using a picture from Aunt Gardiner's sketchbook as a guide. Their maid Sarah had been hard pressed tending to Kitty, Lydia and Mrs Bennet's coiffures. Lizzy and Mary had affected much simpler styles.

Their feverish efforts to present themselves well had resulted in some beautiful ballgowns. A golden silk that admirably matched Jane's golden curls had been fashioned in the Grecian style. The other girls had had to content themselves with muslin, as their budget would not stretch to silks for all of them. Indeed, Mary had chosen instead to rework an old gown of Lizzy's. Nonetheless the duck egg blue of the gown suited her well, and the money saved had allowed them to buy several pairs of new long gloves. Lizzy had fashioned a new gown in a rose muslin. Its square neckline with pleated detailing showed her décolletage off to advantage. Lydia and Kitty's efforts were a trifle over trimmed, but they had been egged on in their efforts by Mrs Bennet, whose own attire was a little over the top.

Mr Bennet, who had watch their feverish preparations with indulgence, waved his wife and the girls goodbye, and settled down with a glass of port and a nice new edition of Schelling's book on _A System of Transcendental Idealism_ that had just been delivered.


	6. Chapter 6

The Bennet ladies arrived in style in the refurbished carriage, and were handed out by an attentive Sir William Lucas, who had not relinquished the role of Master of Ceremonies for Meryton's public assemblies, despite the fact that he had not been mayor for 10 years. He offered his arms to Miss Jane Bennet and her mother, whom he escorted into the Red Lion, followed by the other sisters. Several male heads turned as the sisters entered the room, and the bolder ones crowded forward in anticipation. But Sir William Lucas steered the party towards his boarder Dr Gregory, much to the annoyance of his wife, who was hoping that their daughter, Charlotte, would be honoured as his first partner. The war with France and the lure of London had made male company at the assemblies rather thin, and at 27, Charlotte would be lucky to get a dance partner at all.

Sir William made the formal introductions. "Dr Gregory, I believe you have already met Meryton's fairest flower in a professional capacity. May I introduce Miss Jane Bennet? Miss Bennet, may I introduce Dr Douglas Gregory?"

Dr Gregory was looking very smart in a dark blue coat and buff breeches which complemented his reddish hair and pale blue eyes. He duly requested Miss Bennet's hand for the first set, the music started up, and he led Jane out to the dance. They both comported themselves well and made a pretty couple.

The dancers were taking some well earned refreshment after the first set when the Netherfield party entered the assembly room. It consisted of five altogether—Mr Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the elder, and Mr Darcy. The rainment of the Bingley sisters immediately drew everyone's attention. It was excessively fine: constructed from multicoloured silks in elaborate styles which clearly spoke of the hand of a modiste. They were bedecked with jewelry, and the taller sported a large feather in her hair which added to her already great height. The overall impression was one of money, but the excessive adornment had much in common with Mrs Bennet's style. Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy, on the other hand, were dressed in black satin knee breeches in a restrained style owing much to Mr Brummel. The other gentleman, who was later discovered to be Mr Bingley's brother-in-law Mr Hurst, sported a patterned waistcoat and had more of the air of a dandy.

Sir William greeted the latecomers and was duly introduced to Mr Bingley's relations. Mr Bingley immediately requested Charlotte's hand for the second set, while Darcy led out Mr Bingley's unwed sister Caroline. If Sir William Lucas had hoped that Mr Hurst would lead his wife into the set, he was disappointed when that gentleman signalled his intention of spending the night in the card room. Thus Sir William himself was gratified to lead out Mrs Hurst.

During this set Mr Bingley was surprised to encounter Miss Bennet, who he had expected, if she was present, to be sitting against a wall nursing her broken foot. She assured him she was well, and he managed to secure her hand for the next set before he was obliged to change partners. Thus when the dance broke up, he hastily bowed to Miss Lucas, dragged her to a huddle of women nearby, and begged her to allow him to procure some punch. He returned with great speed, disbursed the three cups he was juggling to the ladies, and promptly disappeared.

He then secured the company of Jane Bennet in anticipation of the next set, and hardly left her side for the rest of the evening. After dancing two sets, Jane had declared herself unfit for further exertion and encouraged Mr Bingley to stand up with some of the other ladies. But he was adamant that he had enough of dancing, and was keen to hear how she had fared in his absence.

As the evening wore on, Mrs Bennet was quite satisfied with events, even if they bore little resemblance to her origin plans. Mr Bingley had danced with her eldest daughter twice, and he had further distinguished Jane by introducing her to his sisters, and sitting to talk to her for a good part of the evening. Jane was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane's pleasure. Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood; and Kitty and Lydia had been fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball.

For his part, Mr Darcy had danced only twice with Mrs Hurst and twice with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.

Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr Darcy had been standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Mr Bingley, who had encountered his friend on his way back to Miss Jane Bennet from the punch bowl.

"Come, Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

"I certainly shall not. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Mr Bingley, "for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."

"You were dancing with the handsomest girl in the room," said Mr Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

"Oh! Jane is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But Miss Elizabeth is sitting down just behind you. She is also very pretty."

Mr Darcy was well aware that Miss Elizabeth was behind him. He had spent all night averting his eyes from her form and had eventually found the only remedy for his wayward gaze was to turn his back on her.

"She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Mr Bingley was deeply embarrassed by his friend's reply, which he had blurted so loudly that he wondered if Darcy was perhaps suffering temporary deafness from the loud music. Miss Elizabeth had shifted in her seat, and averted her gaze to the opposite side of the room. From the looks that were being directed towards Darcy, several other people in the vicinity had clearly heard his reply.

One of these was Dr Gregory, who was affronted by Darcy's ungentleman-like behaviour. In a fit of gallantry, he stepped forward, praised Miss Elizabeth's beauty and humbly sought her hand for the next dance. Dr Gregory knew he was being a bit forward, especially since Darcy could be a potential patron. But he could not ignore that gentleman's rude snub to such a pleasant and lovely lady.

"My pleasure, Dr Gregory," replied Miss Elizabeth. "I would be honoured to take a turn around the room with a gentleman."

Darcy felt the admonition like a slap in the face.


	7. Chapter 7

Mrs Bennet raked over the ball in excruciating detail at breakfast the next morning, ostensibly for Mr Bennet's benefit.

"Oh! my dear Mr Bennet," she said as she buttered some toast, "we had a _most_ delightful evening, a _most_ excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Jane was so admired, _everybody_ said how well she looked. Mr Bingley thought her quite beautiful. He danced with her twice and with no other, except for Charlotte Lucas, who doesn't really count, because he could hardly avoid her when Sir William was the Master of Ceremonies! Then he sat with Jane for the rest of the evening! There was _nothing_ like it!"

She stopped to take a sip of tea. Mr Bennet continued to chew his ham.

"Oh! my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! And his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the lace upon Mrs Hurst's gown—"

"Stop, Mrs Bennet!" interposed Mr Bennet, "No lace! You know descriptions of finery are verboten."

Mrs Bennet changed tack, but did not take a breath.

"Oh, but Mr Darcy! I could not believe how rude he was! particularly after he sent Mary the piano. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! He slighted poor Lizzy you know, and flatly refused to stand up with her!"

Mr Bennet looked to Lizzy for confirmation. She returned a weak smile.

"Not handsome enough to dance with!" continued Mrs Bennet. "That's what he said! within earshot of several people, including Lizzy! I wished you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set-downs, but then lo! What should happen? but Dr Gregory put him in his place!"

Mr Bennet raised his eyebrows at Lizzy.

Mrs Bennet added jam to her toast then continued with her knife aloft for extra emphasis, "He walked _right_ past Mr Darcy and begged her very prettily for her hand in the next set! And do you know what she said in reply? She said she would be _honoured_ to take a turn around the room with a gentleman!"

Mr Bennet's lips twisted into a wry smile which he hid with his cup of coffee.

"Indeed?" he replied with affected nonchalance.

"Perhaps Mr Darcy had the headache, Mama," offered Mary.

Everyone stared at her.

"But I can assure you," Mrs Bennet added, "that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing."

"Indeed," said Mr Bennet squeezing Lizzy's hand, "He is obviously a man of little discernment."

After breakfast the girls put on their bonnets and went out into the garden. Lydia and Kitty headed for the swing, and Mary set off for the rose garden with a book. When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr Bingley before, expressed to her sister just how very much she admired him.

"He is just what a young man ought to be," said she, "sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!—so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!"

"He is also handsome," replied Elizabeth, "which a young man ought to be, if he possibly can."

"I was very flattered that he chose to sit down and talk with me when my ankle began to ache, even after I encouraged him to continue dancing."

"Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person."

Jane smiled at her sister's tart tongue.

Lizzy continued, "And so you like this man's sisters, too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his."

"Certainly not—at first. But they are very pleasing women when you converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbour in her."

Lizzy could think of nothing kind to say in reply to this: she had thought the sisters rather haughty, so she continued to diligently clip lavender.

"You seemed to talk for quite some time with Dr Gregory after your dance," said Jane. "He is also a very handsome man..."

"He is, isn't he?" said Lizzy enthusiastically. "I asked him if he had a need for an assistant in the infirmary. I'm going to walk into Meryton this afternoon for a trial."

"An assistant?" asked Jane. "Surely you don't intend to work in a shop! I don't think Mama will like that at all!"

"Hush," said Lizzy. "It is not paid, and nothing may come of it. But I am very interested to know more of what he does. Will you not walk in with me at least? You can always do some shopping."

"And what excuse should I give for coming home without you?"

"Why, that I stayed with Charlotte, or some such..."

"I don't know Lizzy. If Mama should find out.. I do not like it!"

"Nonsense," said Lizzy, "she will say I am being very sly!"

They both laughed at this, but then Jane became more pensive. "Did Mr Darcy really say that? I cannot believe it of a friend of Mr Bingley! Although it was very strange that he danced so little."

"Perhaps he has two left feet or prefers the company of men."

"Lizzy!" said Jane scandalised. "I saw him dance with the Bingley sisters and he danced very well."

"Looks like the men, then. Particularly if he can only do the pretty with his friend's sisters, and one of them married at that."

"Lizzy, next you'll be proclaiming that he and Mr Bingley are an item!"

"_You_ said it. It's the obvious, next deduction."

Jane pursed her lips. "_Lizzy_, perhaps he is shy?"

"Very well, he shall be shy. Now no more of Mr Darcy! When is your wedding to Mr Bingley?"

The sisters burst out giggling.


	8. Chapter 8

The Bennet ladies next encountered the Netherfield party at a soirée at Lucas Lodge to welcome the militia to Meryton.

The Netherfield party arrived first. Hurst had declined to attend, citing fatigue; so they all fit comfortably into Mr Darcy's town chaise. The gentlemen descended first. They were less formally attired for the soirée than for the Meryton assembly, in buff knee breeches and tail coats. Mr Bingley handed his sisters out of the carriage. They had shown no similar restraint, being again bedizened in jewellery, silks and feathers. Mr Darcy's arm was duly appropriated by Mr Bingley's sister Caroline who tilted her chin up in preparation for their grand entrance. Charles offered his arm to his married sister, Louisa.

Upon their announcement, Sir William Lucas rushed over to welcome the grand party to his humble abode. It was of course, anything but, being far more ostentatiously furnished than any home in the district. It was second only to Netherfield in size and general grandeur, but had benefited from more lavish application of money and attention over the last decade.

Upon looking about the room Bingley was disappointed to see that Miss Jane Bennet had not yet arrived, but graciously joined a group including Charlotte Lucas and some of the militia officers.

Mr Darcy was glad of the reprieve. He had admonished himself for being so gauche at the Meryton Assembly: in his poor simulacrum of indifference, he had been unpardonably uncivil. He was determined to do better tonight.

He began a civil conversation with Colonel Forster, the commander of the militia regiment. He was heartily bored of this after the first fifteen minutes. It was obvious that Colonel Forster had not had the benefit of a university education.

The Longbourn ladies arrived half an hour late, having been delayed by Kitty who could not find one of her slippers. They were charmingly dressed in coloured muslins.

Lydia ran to greet the ensigns Denny and Sanderson who were billeted with Mrs Long. They had already met the Bennet sisters in town, and Miss Lydia had promised them lots of fun at the soirée.

Her progress was watched with fondness by Colonel Forster, who had recently taken a wife who was not much older than Lydia, and some twenty years his junior.

Bingley made a beeline for Miss Jane Bennet, and Darcy took advantage of the distraction by removing himself to the fire to lean upon the mantel. The over mantel was graced with an enormous mirror which reflected the light from a pair of candelabra placed in front of it; and Darcy found that he could surreptitiously observe Miss Elizabeth by looking into it. He spent the next half hour engrossed in this sport.

His attention did not go unnoticed by Charlotte who had been wandering around the room making introductions. Satisfied with her endeavours, she sought out her best friend, Lizzy who had just selected a cucumber sandwich from a tray.

"Mr Darcy looks at you a great deal Lizzy," said Charlotte.

"Well I suppose he has to look somewhere," she retorted, "after all there are only a limited number of objects in the room... Perhaps we could solve his dilemma by cutting everything into small pieces."

Charlotte made a face at her friend and they joined a new group which had formed around Dr Gregory and Colonel Forster.

Remarking the scar upon Colonel Forster's neck, Dr Gregory asked if he'd been wounded in battle. This might have been deemed a gross impertinence in someone else, but it was allowable conversation for a doctor. For his part, Colonel Forster could not have been more pleased, as it gave him a chance to puff off his war exploits without bringing the subject up himself. Thus he related the story of his last engagement in India; how he'd been shipped back to England to recuperate; and how he'd met his wife, who was an orphaned officer's daughter, on the journey. She'd made his journey infinitely more comfortable by her solicitations. They'd been married on board by the ship's captain.

Dr Gregory smiled upon Mrs Forster. "Indeed, I have also found a superlative nurse," he said glancing at Lizzy, "who does not even swoon at the sight of blood!"

"Indeed I am very good at holding a bowl," laughed Lizzy.

Colonel Forster seemed to be very impressed with this and offered in the way of a compliment: "It is my experience that many females cannot cope with the sight of blood."

"What strange females," murmured Lizzy. Charlotte gave her a look.

"That is why men, alone, must go to war!" said Colonel Forster. "We couldn't have soldiers swooning on the battlefield!"

Mrs Forster gave a girlish giggle and squeezed her husband's arm. Despite their age difference, she viewed her husband as a saviour: she'd been destined for a life as a drudge in her aunt's house.

"Really?" said Lizzy a little nettled. "How strange... I thought that females stayed behind to allow the population to be replenished quickly."

"Population?" frowned Colonel Forster.

"Well yes, because of the disparity in the participation times of reproduction," added Lizzy.

Charlotte elbowed her in the ribs.

As Lizzy was now having trouble keeping a straight face, she gave a quick curtsy and turned to make her escape. She ran smack bang into Mr Darcy who had come up behind her to eavesdrop.

"Oof," she said, stepping backwards, and bringing her hand to her nose.

Mr Darcy excused himself. Lizzy glared at him and marched off to the refreshments table.

Charlotte stopped to exchange a few words with Mr Darcy and then followed her.

"Lizzy you should be more careful talking in mixed company. Colonel Foster might've understood you."

"I'm sorry Charlotte. Sometimes I feel like I'm having the same conversation over and over again at these parties and it was boring the first time."

"You see I was right about Mr Darcy. He had come over to listen to you."

"Surely he was just passing at an unfortunate moment."

"Not at all. He was hovering behind you for some good minutes."

"Well, I can tell you Charlotte, that he has a very hard chest. I'm sure it would have been far more comfortable to run into your father."

This at last made Charlotte smile. Her father had indeed developed a paunch during his time as mayor and had been steadily adding to it since.

"Well Lizzy, I think it's time to open the instrument and you know what follows."

"Oh Charlotte, you are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable. I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers."

"Oh come, come, Lizzy. Will you sing if I play?"

Lizzy sighed. "If you must expose us both to censure, then lead on."

Charlotte was well satisfied. She played tolerably, but knew Lizzy's singing to be superlative. She saw her father nod approvingly as they moved towards the instrument.

After the opening bars, Mr Darcy had taken several unconscious steps towards the piano before he realised what he was doing. _Just what he needed! She sang like a siren too!_

The ladies received justifiable applause and Charlotte happily ceded her place at the piano to Mary.

"He was looking at you again," whispered Charlotte as she gathered her sheet music.

"Charlotte it is normal for people to look at you when you're singing. You would have better noted his expression which was one of a man in pain. No doubt he was thinking of more cutting things he could say about me."

Lizzy did not say anything further to Charlotte but she had also noticed that Caroline Bingley had walked up to Mr Darcy to exchange words with him during her song, and the expression on that lady's face was quite readable to another female: it was one of sheer nastiness.

Mary had completed two Scottish airs when Lydia rushed up to her. "Give us a jig Mary, we would like to dance!"

A group consisting of the young officers, the two younger Bennet sisters and Miss Mariah Lucas formed in the end of the room to dance. Part way through the set Jane and Bingley joined them.

As the first piece ended, Sir William approached Mr Darcy who had retreated to the mantel to compose himself. He had not resumed watching Miss Eliza in the mirror, as he considered this too dangerous a sport in his present mood. Instead he stared into the flames.

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr Darcy!" said Sir William coming up to his elbow. "There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society."

Mr Darcy knew what Sir William was about and wasn't going to play ball. He hadn't cared to dance at the assembly and he would be damned if he would dance at Sir William's soirée. "Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance."

At this point Miss Elizabeth passed before them and Sir William, seeing an opportunity to paper over the unpleasantness at the assembly, captured her gloved hand.

"Mr Darcy, will you not partake of the entertainment? You must allow me to present Miss Elizabeth to you as a very desirable partner," he said as he offered her captured wrist.

Elizabeth blanched, _damn Sir William's clumsy chivalry! _"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."

Mr Darcy faced a dilemma. He didn't want to snub Miss Elizabeth again, but he did not wish to encourage her pretensions. _Perhaps __he should offer to get her refreshments instead?_

Into the breech stepped Dr Gregory. "Miss Elizabeth, would you care to take a turn on the dance floor?"

Elizabeth acquiesced with a smile and was led away.

Darcy, unreasonably, felt a pang of jealousy. He was beginning to quite hate that fellow.


	9. Chapter 9

Breakfast at Netherfield was a desultory affair. Caroline toyed with the crumbs of a muffin as she stirred her tea.

"Charles, I'm so bored. When can we go up to town?"

"Caroline we've only just got here."

"There is _nothing_ to do!"

"There is _plenty_ to do. You must merely accustom yourselves to country amusements. You could do some stitchery or gather flowers, or go for walks. You could even pay calls to some of our neighbours."

"They are so unrefined, Charles."

"Suit yourself. But if you wish to be part of the landed gentry, you will need to adapt your lifestyle accordingly. Darcy and I have been invited to dine at the officers' mess. Why not invite some ladies over in our absence?"

Caroline pondered, _Jane Bennet wasn't too bad, she wasn't impertinent like her sister Elizabeth; or boring like that parvenu Charlotte Lucas. And if Charles was going out: she wouldn't have to worry about him fawning over her like an enthusiastic puppy..._

"Very well," she smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. "I will write a letter of invitation, dear brother."

Half an hour later, a Netherfield footman arrived at Longbourn with a note for Miss Bennet. Mrs Bennet could hardly contain her excitement.

"Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love."

"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, "I have been invited to dine."

"Excellent! an opportunity to further your relationship with Mr Bingley and his family, it could not be better!"

"The gentlemen will not be there, they are to dine with the officers."

"What? Give me the note!" Mrs Bennet demanded. She read it through in consternation but then smiled.

"Nothing could be simpler, my dear, you will go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night."

"Mama!" remonstrated Lizzy, "surely they will wonder why we did not send the carriage."

"Nonsense. The carriage is being inspected for further defects!"

Behind _The Morning Post_, Mr Bennet rolled his eyes.

Mrs Bennet could not be dissuaded from her course of action. The waiting footman was sent back with the acceptance, and Jane followed not long after. Mrs Bennet's hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it bucketed down. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not come back.

"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs Bennet more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:

_MY DEAREST LIZZY,—_

_I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist on calling Dr Gregory, therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me; excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me.—Yours, etc._

"Well, my dear," said Mr Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud, "if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness—if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr Bingley, and under your orders."

"Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds."

Dr Gregory visited the patient during his morning rounds. He did not think the case serious, but advised caution. Some barley water was prescribed for the fever, and he promised to return the following day.

It had become Lizzy's habit to spend two hours at the infirmary every day. She usually arrived at ten by which time Dr Gregory had generally finished his morning calls. Her duties had originally been quite light. When he tended patients, she held bowls and passed instruments, which she later washed. She spent her free time reading texts from his library, preferably in the garden, when the weather permitted. She had lately been reading a treatise on blood letting, and had been surprised to find the business so complicated. It seemed to be a panacea for so many ills. Should the blood be taken from the site of the illness or from far away? Dr Gregory firmly believed that the appropriate site depended on the illness.

Sometimes she ground compounds for Mr Jones. Because she had promised Jane she would never serve in the dispensary, she usually did this in the surgery; or if that was occupied, in the store cupboard under the stairs. Later Dr Gregory found she could do ledgers, and she assumed this onerous task to allow him more time to deal with his correspondence. This chiefly consisted of letters to prominent persons requesting patronage for the projected hospital.

She always arrived back at Longbourn for lunch and her parents continued to believe she visited Charlotte each day.

On the morning of Jane's illness, Elizabeth had declared her intention to visit her at Netherfield; and set off initially to Meryton, where she left a note for Dr Gregory, excusing herself for the day; before continuing cross-country to Netherfield.

The ground was still heavy from the previous day's rain, and despite tying up her overskirt and holding up the hem of her petticoat, the latter was well spattered with mud by the time she reach Netherfield: a fact that the thin overskirt could not entirely conceal when she lowered it again after crossing the stile.

She encountered Mr Darcy in the grounds with his dog on her way to the house. The hound ran straight for her and jumped up to lick her face. Fortunately Miss Elizabeth was ready for him and grabbed his paws before he could soil her dress any further.

"Down Argos!" commanded Darcy belatedly. "I beg your pardon Miss Elizabeth. You seem to inspire him to bad behaviour!"

She raised her eyebrows at this.

"Good morning Mr Darcy, I've come to tend my sister," she said rather stiffly.

Darcy blushed.

"Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, I merely meant he seems to forget himself in your presence. He is generally a well behaved dog."

He offered her his handkerchief.

"Do not trouble yourself Mr Darcy, I will go in through the kitchens and wash my hands in the scullery. Excuse me," she curtseyed, and headed off towards the house.

Darcy scowled at Argos who wagged his tail in reply.

Mr Bingley and his sisters were still at breakfast when she was ushered into the morning room. Mr Hurst was not in evidence, and she assumed he'd gone out riding.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth," greeted Mr Bingley. "Will you sit down to some tea?"

"No thank you Mr Bingley, I've come to check on Jane. Has Dr Gregory seen her this morning?"

"Yes, indeed and he believes it is not serious." He glanced at his sisters who were intently studying the paper. "Would you like me to take you up?"

"Thank you, sir. I'm in your debt."

Upon reaching Jane she found her propped on pillows in her bed, wearing a very fetching lace gown which Lizzy presumed had been loaned by one of the sisters. Mr Bingley hesitated on the threshold, but seeing his entry challenged by no one, stepped into the room.

Lizzy sat down on the counterpane, and upon stretching her hand to Jane's forehead, her sister opened heavy eyelids.

"Oh Lizzy!" Jane croaked, "Thank you for coming. I feel so wretched and did not sleep well last night."

"Then you must try to sleep now that I am here," she said as she glanced at the side table. "Is this barley water? Will you take some?"

Jane sipped from the glass and it was returned to the side table.

Mr Bingley stepped forward. "If there is anything else that we can get for your sister's comfort Miss Elizabeth, please tell me."

Jane jumped, as she had not realised that Mr Bingley had entered the room. She pulled the sheets up higher over the flimsy gown.

"Thank you for the thought," replied Miss Elizabeth. "If you could send a maid occasionally to wait on us, it would be much appreciated."

"It shall by done every hour," said Mr Bingley and bowing, he withdrew.

Lizzy found a novel which had been left by the Bingley sisters. It was a dusty and mottled copy of Fanny Burney's _Cecilia_, which had likely come from the Netherfield library. She knew the novel well, and turning to the first chapter, sat down by the bed and began to read aloud. Jane had drifted off to sleep after the second page, and Lizzy settled down into the sunny window seat to continue reading.

The maid arrived as promised an hour later, and after checking Jane, Lizzy used the opportunity to slip outside for some fresh air, promising to return within the half hour.

She had only gone a few steps outside the house when Mr Darcy's hound found her. He dropped a stick at her feet and then bounded off after she threw it. But instead of returning it to her, the dog sped off, and she perceived Mr Darcy returning from the stables. He received the stick from the hound, threw it off in another direction, and proceeded to stride towards her. She busied herself smelling the roses.

Finally arriving in her vicinity Mr Darcy greeted her with, "I would prefer that you do not play with the dog, Miss Elizabeth. He is a working dog and needs to pledge his allegiance to me."

At this moment the dog returned and dropped not the stick, but a dead rabbit at Mr Darcy's feet.

"I believe you already have his allegiance Mr Darcy, as indicated by the rabbit offering."

Frowning, Mr Darcy picked up the rabbit by its ears and handed it to a footman who was hovering nearby. "Farley, please take this rabbit to Cook."

"Complements of Argos, Farley," added Miss Elizabeth.

The dog, recognising his name, licked her.

Farley gave her a grin and took the victuals off.

"You are clearly the leader of the pack, Mr Darcy, or perhaps some ancient dog god. Mr Sirius Darcy? Mr Anubis Darcy?"

"You are mocking me, Miss Elizabeth."

"How could I mock such a _serious_ man?" she replied and curtseying, she re-entered the house to return to Jane.


	10. Chapter 10

The Bingley sisters finally came to check on their guest around three. Elizabeth felt that she must return to Longbourn, and very unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern in parting with her, that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of clothes.

It was accordingly arranged that Lizzy dine with the Netherfield party at seven. As the dinner hour at Longbourn was at the earlier hour of six, as is the general trend in the country, Lizzy's stomach was well and truly grumbling when she came downstairs to dinner at twenty minutes to the hour. She hesitated on the stairs when she heard the conversation drifting from the saloon.

"Is not your love rather accident prone?" _This was clearly Miss Bingley._

"A sprained ankle and a cold hardly classify as accident prone," replied Mr Bingley.

"It was injudicious to ride yesterday when it was clearly going to rain," said the deeper voice of Mr Darcy.

"Perhaps the carriage needs further repairs," said Mr Bingley.

"A carriage that has undergone such a major accident should be scrapped or sold." _Again Mr Darcy._

"And what about her sister?" _That was the elder Bingley sister._ "I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."

"She did, indeed, Louisa." _Caroline_. "I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister has a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!"

"Yes, and her petticoat," continued Louisa, "I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office."

"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," said Bingley; "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."

"You observed it, Mr Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley; "and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition."

"Certainly not."

"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum."

"It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing," said Bingley.

"You are quite right, Miss Bingley," _That was Mr Darcy again._ "Affection for his sister notwithstanding, she behaves like the veriest hoyden."

Elizabeth flushed to the roots of her hair, more with anger than embarrassment. She crept back up to the top of the stairs and regulated her breathing. Then commanding herself to have courage, she clattered back down again and entered the saloon.

For the entire dinner conversation Caroline and Louisa directed a barrage of pointed questions towards Miss Elizabeth regarding relatives in Cheapside, attorneys and country manners. Bingley's attempts to direct the conversation elsewhere were futile in the face of his sisters' more determined assault. Mr Hurst's mouth was wholly occupied with his food and Mr Darcy also said little. Elizabeth found him staring at her more often than not. His face was an expressionless mask but she could not help the word "hoyden" from running through her head every time she happened to glance at him.

When the ladies withdrew from the dining room, Elizabeth returned to check on her sister. The evening brought on the expected heightening of her fever. Elizabeth bathed her sister's brow with a wet flannel which she exchanged regularly with another sitting in a bowl; and encouraged her to take some more barley water. Jane thanked her sister for her solicitude but complained of a headache; whereupon Elizabeth rang for the maid and asked her to sit with her sister while she herself went down to the kitchens.

The maid was keen to exchange roles, "Mrs Fletcher wouldn't like me sitting about ma'am, while you did the work!"

But upon Elizabeth explaining that she wished to supervise the making of a tisane herself, the maid relented and sat down.

Opening her reticule, Elizabeth spied the treatise on blood letting which, in her anxiety over Jane, she had forgot she had brought with her. Setting this aside, she withdrew a piece of willow bark and set off to the kitchens, returning twenty minutes later with the tea. Half an hour after this had being administered, she had the comfort of seeing Jane fall asleep, and when it seemed to her rather right than pleasant that she should go downstairs herself, she summoned the maid once more to take her place.

On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but she declined, and sat down to read her book.

Mr Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" said he; "that is rather singular."

"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else."

"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure," cried Elizabeth; "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things."

"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," said Bingley; "and I hope it will be soon increased by seeing her quite well."

But Mr Darcy seemed to have bored of the game, and soon quit the card table to sit in an armchair close to Miss Elizabeth's, picking up a book which had been lying on a sidetable. It was the first volume of Southey's _History of Nelson_.

"What are you reading Miss Elizabeth?" he enquired quietly.

Lizzy inwardly sighed. She handed the book to him silently rather than say the words aloud, and thus give Miss Bingley another opportunity to score points on her.

He raised his eyebrows when he looked at the spine, then turned the book over to view the front pages. He flicked quickly through the remainder of the book as if shuffling a deck of cards, stopping occasionally to view woodcut illustrations. Upon finishing this perusal, he frowned; then returned the book, thankfully without comment.

She found her place and continued to read.

She excused herself after half an hour to check on Jane, and finding her awake again, sat down to continue reading _Cecilia_ to her.

When Mr Darcy retired to the guest wing after midnight, the door to Jane's room was open, as the maid had gone to refresh the ewer. Mr Darcy snuffed his candle and stood in the shadows to listen to Miss Elizabeth's reading until he heard the maid returning along the passage.


	11. Chapter 11

Mr Darcy slept ill that night, disturbed by fugitive dreams. The last of these he vaguely remembered. He had been in a carriage accident during which his parents were killed and was lying injured abed afterwards.

Indeed, his parents _had_ been killed in a carriage accident returning to Pemberley during the winter, but he had been a boy of eight at the time. Their annual removal to Derbyshire had been delayed by the early arrival of Georgiana. As soon as his mother had been declared fit for travel, they had departed; and the tiny babe, who was not expected to live, had been left in the care of several nurses and a London physician. There had been a hard early frost, the carriage had slipped sideways coming down a hill and rolled down an embankment. The last memory he had of the event was being hurled through the door which had come open when the carriage tipped. They had been found by some passersby several hours later. Apparently he had been sitting in the wreckage holding his dead mother's hand, but he had no memory of this. Only he and the boy who had been sitting next to the coachman with the yard of tin survived the accident: the boy had a broken arm, but Darcy had come through with only a knock to his head. Both became deadly ill from the chill afterwards, and the boy had succumbed two weeks later.

But the dream was contemporary, and he was lying abed as an adult. A woman sat on the counterpane dressed in an outmoded gown of crimson velvet. Her face was turned away as she read to him by candlelight, and he studied her dark tresses which tumbled down her back as he listened to her smooth, pleasant contralto voice. He had one hand stretched out towards her on the coverlet, and she stroked his fingers occasionally with her own hand which lay atop it. He had just decided she was his mother when she turned to smile at him, and his heart skipped a beat when he recognised Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

The shock was sufficient to wake him.

He had drunk a cup of tea at the back door before heading out on a bruising ride across the Hertfordshire countryside. When he arrived back, he decided that he definitely needed a bath before heading down to breakfast.

Upon emerging from the copper tub, his valet had thrown his gown around his shoulders, and he walked to the window. Below, he saw Miss Elizabeth Bennet playing with Argos. The dog jumped up and licked her face. She protested and tumbled over backwards laughing, at which point the hound touched his nose gently to her face and raced off to retrieve another stick. Again, he felt a ridiculous pang of jealousy. Darcy withdrew from the window: if he continued watching he was going to need another bath, preferably a cold one.

When he had come down to breakfast the Bingleys had been at table. Hurst was missing: no doubt sleeping-in again. He enquired of the Bennets, and was told that Miss Elizabeth had taken breakfast upstairs with her sister, who was not yet well enough to eat. Dr Gregory apparently had already come and gone, declaring little progress but no worse prognosis.

Darcy had eaten breakfast in silence, immersed in a strange melancholy which felt as if he had wool stuck in his ears. Caroline continued her bitching about Miss Elizabeth, but it seemed far off and he paid no attention to it. After breakfast, he returned to the Netherfield library where he was going through the old ledgers of the estate on Bingley's behalf.

Looking out the window around eleven, he saw Miss Elizabeth in the garden and decided to stretch his legs.

He had not taken two steps off the terrace before Argos bounced towards him, yapped, then took off to find a stick.

He watched Miss Elizabeth wander in the garden for some minutes, ensconced in her own activities and oblivious of his scrutiny. She had taken off her straw bonnet and was using it as a basket as she gathered wild flowers, which had sprung up around the more ordered blooms of the formal garden. It occurred to him that she had borne the vitriol flung at her by the Bingley sisters over the past couple of days with graceful equanimity, while she quietly tended to her sister. With shame, he realised he had contributed to this vitriol, even fuelled it in his efforts to deny his attraction to her. While she may not be an eligible female, she was obviously a worthy person, and did not deserve the treatment that had been meted out to her.

He walked towards her, but stopped some two feet distant, wondering what to say. At this point Argos returned, dropping a baby rabbit, dead, at his feet.

They both stared at it for a moment, before Miss Elizabeth dared, "Oh dear, that will be rather a small pie. I do hope Cook has a tiny ramekin. Perhaps it will serve as the entree?"

Darcy stared at the bunny, rubbing his right temple.

"Miss Elizabeth, I must apologise for my behaviour at the assembly..."

He paused.

"I had the headache."

She stared at him open mouthed for a moment before regaining her aplomb.

"So Mary was right! I have underestimated her percipience. I was sure that you were just being disagreeable!"

He smiled ruefully.

Lizzy knew that a headache was not an apology, but she suspected it was the closest she would get to one.

"Very well, Mr Darcy. Truce."

He nodded. Contemplating the rabbit, he had the most bizarre urge to cradle it to his chest. Tossing this random thought aside, he picked it up by the ears and walked off towards the kitchens.

* * *

><p>He next saw Miss Elizabeth at dinner.<p>

She surveyed the board before quietly asking, "No ramekin?"

"I believe it ended up in the stockpot," he replied.

Miss Bingley looked at them suspiciously.

After dinner, Elizabeth again returned to Jane when the ladies withdrew. After confirming she was comfortable, Lizzy reluctantly descended to the drawing room.

The card table had been abandoned: Mr Hurst was stretched out on a settee with a cushion over his head; Louisa Bingley sat playing with her bangles, while her brother stood poking the fire; Mr Darcy was sitting at a desk writing a letter, while Miss Bingley hovered nearby.

"You write so charmingly Mr Darcy!" she cooed. "You must have won many prizes for penmanship at Cambridge."

"Miss Bingley, there are no prizes for penmanship at Cambridge."

Lizzy sat down in her chair and opened her book.

Shortly after, Mr Darcy finished his letter with a flourish, then sanded and sealed the missive.

He stood up, crossed to Miss Bennet's side of the room, then proceeded to pace up and down along a line approximately 6 feet away from her. She was aware of his occasional glances in her direction, but she did not lift her head from her book.

Then he blurted, "So you believe females should go to war?"

_So... he **had** been listening at the Lucas's soirée!_

"Not as a general rule, but Colonel Forster seems to have forgotten a few females who didn't swoon at the sight of blood: Boudicca, Joan of Arc and Zenobia spring to mind... Queen Elizabeth and Catherine the Great..."

"The latter hardly swung a sword themselves," interposed Mr Darcy.

"Nonetheless they commanded countries at war, and no doubt could make men shake in their shoes. For that matter I don't recall that the Prince Regent has been swinging a sword lately," she retorted.

"Bravo!" declared Mr Bingley, "do not let him bully you, Miss Elizabeth. I assure you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do."

"I see your design, Bingley," said his friend. "You dislike an argument, and want to silence this."

"Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me."

"It is dialectic argument Bingley. Surely you learnt that much at Oxford?"

"Dielectric?" said Bingley, "Oh no, I didn't study the natural sciences, only classics and philosophy."

Darcy bit his lip and mentally rolled his eyes.

He looked up to see Miss Elizabeth barely suppressing her laughter and could not help returning a small smile.

All of this was Chinese to Miss Bingley, who only detected that her brother had committed the double sin of championing Eliza Bennet and criticising the illustrious Mr Darcy.

"Charles!" she remonstrated, rushing to Mr Darcy's side and clutching his sleeve.

Mr Darcy glared at his sleeve and she removed her hand. Then he sat down opposite Lizzy and picked up the _History of Nelson._ They continued to read in silence, glancing at each other occasionally whenever they thought the other wasn't looking. Miss Bingley stared at them both, like a terrier guarding a mouse-hole. After half an hour of this, Lizzy could stand no more, and bidding the Netherfield party goodnight, she retreated to Jane's room.

Around midnight Mr Darcy also retired to the guest wing. The door to Jane's room was closed.


	12. Chapter 12

Dr Gregory arrived at Netherfield in his gig around eight, at the beginning of his morning rounds.

Returning to the stables after his morning ride, Mr Darcy saw the gig drive up. He was still feeling less than charitable towards the good doctor. As he walked back to the house, he mulled over their various interactions in which Darcy had come off second-best. Entering the house quietly, he came upon Elizabeth and Dr Gregory at the foot of the stairs, as the physician was about to take his leave. He watched them, unobserved from an alcove.

"Miss Elizabeth I do believe that your sister is well enough to return to Longbourn," Gregory said as he brought her ungloved hand to his lips. "and thank goodness! as we're desperately missing you at the infirmary."

_Desperately missing her at the infirmary?_ thought Darcy, as he watched Gregory continue to hold her hand and then squeeze it. He realised he was grinding his teeth.

"Your sister must not be selfish," Gregory smiled at Lizzy, "the rest of Meryton is in need of its best nurse."

_Working as a nurse? Lord, Mr Bennet's financial position must be worse than popular rumor implied!_ Darcy continued to stand there in the shadows willing the doctor to drop her hand.

"Thank you Dr Gregory," she replied, "that is good news indeed!"

* * *

><p>Accordingly a message was sent to Longbourn requesting the carriage; the news was conveyed to Mr Bingley, and Lizzy returned upstairs to help her sister dress.<p>

She had just finished brushing out Jane's hair, when there was a knock. The maid opened the door to Mr Bingley, who was bearing a bunch of roses which had obviously come from the formal garden.

"Miss Bennet you cannot be planning on leaving us so soon," said Bingley proffering the roses.

"On the contrary Mr Bingley, I fear I have imposed far too long," replied Jane gently, accepting the blooms and inhaling their scent.

"Then may I sit and talk to you before you go?" he said settling himself on the chaise lounge before she had a chance to reply.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Lizzy was gratified to see her mother had arrived; but less happy when her three sisters also descended from the carriage. It would be rather an uncomfortable trip back.<p>

However, once inside, Mrs Bennet's real mission was revealed: she was quite insistent Jane should not be moved. To Lizzy's protestations that Dr Gregory had approved it, she merely replied that a second opinion should be sought from Mr Jones.

Before returning to Longbourn without her two elder daughters, Mrs Bennet sat down to tea with the Bingleys. Lizzy reluctantly followed them into the morning room; Jane had been adjured to stay in her bed upstairs.

During the whole visit, the two youngest daughters had been whispering to each other, and as they sat down at the table, the youngest reminded Mr Bingley of having promised, on his first coming into the country, to give a ball at Netherfield.

The Bingley sisters glared at each other.

"Now the officers are here, it would be the most shameful thing in the world if you do not keep your promise." said Lydia.

Mr Bingley bowed his head to her. "I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is fully recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill."

Lydia bounced up and down in her seat, clapped her hands, and hugged Kitty.

Miss Bingley worried about her new chairs - with sabre-back legs that lacked runners, they were not meant for such rough treatment. She then scowled as Kitty carefully placed her bonnet on the table. Setting a cup of tea down beside it, Caroline picked it up.

"Let me help you with that Miss Kitty. No hats on the table!"

But as she lifted the bonnet, something fell from within it, and landed with a splash in Kitty's cup of tea.

"Oh dear!" said Kitty as she peered into her cup.

Lydia snorted. "Was that Freddie?" she exclaimed.

Jumping up and grabbing the cup, she tipped its contents unceremoniously onto her bread-and-butter plate, splashing tea onto the tablecloth and revealing a frog, decidedly worse for wear.

"Oh dear," she said, "I think he's had it!"

With great presence of mind, Bingley motioned for a footman to take the plate. He appeared to be stifling a smile and the footman seem to be having some difficulty arranging his countenance also.

The Bingley sisters glared at each other. Lizzy could only be glad that Mr Darcy was still in the library, and made new plans for her escape.

Upon the departure of Mrs Bennet and her youngest daughters, Lizzy privately sought Caroline and requested the Bingley carriage, which was immediately put at her disposal. Thus the sisters departed at noon. Lizzy knew she could truthfully say that Mr Jones had concurred with Dr Gregory's opinion: he was too wise a man to disagree. She would apprise him of his involvement tomorrow at the infirmary.

* * *

><p>They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs Bennet wondered at their coming, thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, and almost all its sense by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth.<p>

* * *

><p>Returning to his room after lunch, Mr Darcy entered the empty room opposite and surveyed it. He thought he could detect her scent. The pile of pillows on the bed attested to a single occupant. His eyes turned to the chaise lounge before he noticed a servant's cot in the dressing room: that was where she had slept.<p>

He walked to the window to stare down into the formal garden where she had been gathering flowers yesterday. He turned when he heard another person enter the room.

"Mr Darcy," said Caroline with a frown, "have you lost something?"

"No, Miss Bingley" said Darcy walking past her into the hall. "Have you?"


	13. Chapter 13

At Longbourn, Mrs Bennet continued with her matrimonial plans. It had not escaped her notice that she had been given a unique opportunity at Netherfield on the previous day. She wasted no time in taking her daughters into her confidence. They were not to reveal the secret of the ball to anyone. They must use their time wisely to prepare themselves.

She then revealed her masterstroke. Their aunt had written yesterday: her brother had received a new shipment of silks from India. Mr Gardiner had made his fortune in import and export and always offered his sister his goods at cost price. She had counted and recounted her pin money: there was sufficient to buy material for two new dresses. Lizzy and Mary would be wearing silk at the ball as well as Jane!

"If Lizzy does not appeal to Mr Darcy, perhaps Mary will!" exclaimed Mrs Bennet. "After all, he sent her the piano!"

Lizzy coughed when she swallowed her tea the wrong way at this statement. After spending several days within Mr Darcy's vicinity, she did not think _any_ woman would suit him; although she had to admit, she had found no evidence for any predilection towards Mr Bingley. Bizarrely enough, considering their disparate temperaments, they seemed to be just good friends. She could only wonder at how they arrived at this state.

Mrs Bennet had written back to her sister-in-law immediately, instructing Aunt Gardiner to select two colours which she thought would become Lizzy and Mary well. Two days later, a package arrived and the younger girls clustered round as she opened it, while the two eldest maintained a more polite distance. On top was a beautiful grey blue silk which Aunt Gardiner had chosen for Mary. Mrs Bennet was a little disappointed at first, as she had envisioned bright colours like the Bingley sisters had worn at the assembly, but when the silk was held against Mary's chest, they all saw how it enhanced her pale complexion, and, wondrously, made her grey-blue eyes look bluer.

"Your aunt is so smart girls!" crowed Mrs Bennet. "It could not be better!"

When she removed the tissue paper from the second length, they all gasped. It was the most beautiful crimson. Lizzy, in turn, held the fabric against her chest. It looked stunning combined with her more tanned complexion and chestnut locks.

Of the two colours, the crimson was definitely more striking, and for a moment, Mrs Bennet thought it seemed a shame to waste it on a mere physician; perhaps it would be better for Mary after all. The two girls dutifully swapped silks for comparison. No, Mary looked quite wan in the crimson; and while the blue looked well enough on Lizzy, it was nothing to the vision she appeared in the stunning crimson. It was decided: Mrs Gardiner's original choices would stand.

* * *

><p>After Jane had returned from her sojourn at Netherfield, Mr Bingley visited Longbourn every day to take morning tea. Usually he arrived with either Caroline or Louisa, though neither lady affected much enthusiasm for the trip. Occasionally Mr Darcy accompanied him. Lizzy was having a little difficulty understanding the terms of their truce. If she was absent, Mr Darcy apparently made civil, though infrequent, contributions to the conversation. If she was present, which was generally only when it was raining, he usually sat like a statue. Occasionally she would find him staring at her, out from under hooded brows. She did not feel he was glaring at her, it was quite a different sensation, like he was drilling a hole through her skull, starting between her eyebrows. Then he would get up, turn his back to the party, and stare out the window for the rest of his stay. Apparently the truce consisted of not saying anything nasty, rather than trying to be pleasant.<p>

Aside from the rainy days, Lizzy had resumed her morning visits to "Charlotte". Of course Mrs Bennet had already been advised of her actual destination by Mrs Long. Nothing could be kept secret for long in such a small town as Meryton. But just as Lizzy had foreseen, her mother had interpreted her actions within the framework of her own schemes. Lizzy was "sly" and the handsome Dr Gregory would do nicely.

A week after leaving Netherfield, Dr Gregory had declared Jane fit and Mr Bingley had announced the ball for Tuesday week.

* * *

><p>The dinnertime conversation that evening was entirely of the ball: the progress of the dressmaking, which officers the younger girls intended to dance with.<p>

After the plates had been cleared away in favour of the tea things, their father announced they would shortly be hosting a visitor, much to their mother's consternation. It was in fact their cousin Mr Collins, whom they had never met before. The Bennet girls merely knew him by reputation as the odious man who was set to inherit the entailed property of Longbourn.

Mrs Bennet had immediately declared her intention of snubbing him, but after a hastily convened conference in Mr Bennet's library, she had emphasised the importance of being civil, nay, _welcoming_, to Mr Collins: their future might depend on it.

Mr Collins was a clergyman: the rector of Hunsford in Kent. He was, in fact, on a mission to Hertfordshire, sent thither by his patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She had grown rather alarmed by his clumsy attempts to court the younger ladies of his flock, even paying fulsome compliments to girls who were not yet out after Sunday services. After pondering the problem, Lady Catherine had instructed him to write to the squire of Longbourn, and to proceed to Hertfordshire posthaste to select a wife from his cousins, while the curate minded his flock.

Thus he arrived in a Tilbury in the afternoon following Mr Bennet's revelation. At 30, Mr Collins was already past his prime, although that had not been very impressive at its apogee. When he descended from the vehicle he grasped Mr Bennet's outstretched hand, revealing that, despite the mildness of the day, he was sweaty: partly due to the unforgiving parson's black clothing he was wearing; but also due to the thick layer of blubber he had accreted over the years. He took off his round clergyman's hat and performed a bow to the ladies, revealing a comb-over ineffectively hiding a balding pate.

The ladies curtsied in return and Mrs Bennet invited him into tea.

Sitting down to table with his five pretty cousins, he looked as pleased as a fox which had gotten into the hen coop.


	14. Chapter 14

The astonishment of the sisters continued to grow over the tea table: they had never encountered a more ridiculous man than Mr Collins. Even Mrs Bennet was at a loss of what to think of him.

Only Mary could view him with any equanimity. She had thought her mother to be wishing for the moon when she expressed her wish for Mary to engage Mr Darcy's interest: piano, or no. Mr Collins was a more achievable target. She had always fancied the idea of marrying a clergyman. Granted, he was not the greatest specimen of maleness, but she refused to dwell on such earthy thoughts. His descriptions of Rosings and the parsonage painted a quite agreeable picture of domestic felicity; and to have the hope of returning to Longbourn as its mistress at sometime in the future was sweet indeed. Mary determinedly set forth to fix his interest.

Her sisters, on the other hand, wished they were as far away from Mr Collins as possible. The thought of spending a week in close quarters with him filled them with dread. As they sat dipping their biscuits in their tea, Kitty coughed, and Lizzy fought down an urge to scream as another unctuous description of Lady Catherine's manifold beneficence rolled from his tongue.

"Ribbons!" blurted Lydia.

There was a silence as they all looked at her.

"I must have some coquelicot ribbons for my ball dress! They will match the officers' uniforms!"

"Yes!" corroborated Lizzy. "What an interesting idea! white muslin with coquelicot ribbons..."

"Shall we walk into town, then?" said Jane, getting up with a smile.

Thus the sisters set off to walk to the Meryton shops. If the majority of the sisters had hoped to shake Mr Collins off, they were sadly mistaken: he volunteered to accompany them.

In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton.

Upon reaching the shops, the younger girls were gratified to recognise one of the officers, Mr Denny, strolling along in the company of another well dressed gentleman they had not seen before. Tossing decorum aside, they squealed their delight, and hastened to the other side of the road to greet Mr Denny.

For her part, Lizzy was pleased to see Charlotte hurrying towards her with a rush basket on one arm: she was likely on her way to the butchers. She introduced Mr Collins to her friend before they crossed the road together to join Kitty and Lydia on the other side. Jane, Mary, and Mr Collins brought up the rear.

Mr Denny entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr Wickham, who had returned with him the day before from town; and he was happy to say, had accepted a commission in their corps. Mr Wickham was an exceptionally fine fellow: being tall, very good-looking and charming. He wanted only regimentals to make him irresistible. He smiled and complimented each of the ladies in turn. Kitty turned pink, and Lydia, bouncing up and down, suggested they all take a stroll along the street together to further their acquaintance. She had temporarily forgot about her need for ribbons.

At this point Charlotte tugged silently at Lizzy's sleeve, requesting her company to the butchers.

Once they have got out of earshot of the rest of the party, Lizzy declared to her friend, "Mr Wickham is a very charming gentleman."

"Smooth, too smooth," said Charlotte. Handsome men did not pay Charlotte compliments, so Mr Wickham's attempt to flatter her had been as water off a duck's back.

Lizzy considered this for a moment before accepting the justice of her friend's censure.

"If he was any smoother," said Lizzy starting their old game, "I could use him as rubbing liniment."

Charlotte blushed. "Lizzy don't go putting ideas into my head."

They both giggled.

"Your turn," said Lizzy.

"If he was any smoother..." said Charlotte, "I could skate on him at Christmas!"

Lizzy rolled her eyes.

"No, no! I have a better one!" said Charlotte. "If he was any smoother, I could see my reflection in him!"

They giggled again.

Having selected some chops for the Lucases' dinner, Charlotte and Lizzy wended their way back to the rest of the group.

The whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object. Mr Darcy was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return.

What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.

In another minute, Mr Bingley, without seeming to have noticed what passed, took his leave and rode on with his friend.

Mr Denny and Mr Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of the haberdashers, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia's pressing entreaties that they should come in and help choose the ribbons.

Behind them Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley continued onto Netherfield in what appeared to be companionable silence. But their minds were of a very different temper. Bingley was amiably engaged in daydreaming of dancing with Miss Bennet at the Netherfield ball.

Mr Darcy silently fumed. _Wickham, that slimy bastard! It made the trip to Hertfordshire complete in an ironic circular way._ He'd hesitated about returning to Elisabeth Bennet's environs, but had caved in to Bingleys entreaties because of his wish to escape the Georgiana situation; and now the villain of that episode had made his 'holiday' complete by arriving on the scene himself. _Perfect. Maybe he should have let his cousin Richard throttle him on a dark night as he had wished.._.


	15. Chapter 15

The young girls were ecstatic to arrive home from Meryton with the ribbons and a gratifying invitation. They had met Mrs Long in the haberdashers, whence they had been invited to a card party at her house tomorrow evening "just for the young people".

Denny and Sanderson were billeted with Mrs Long, and it happened that Mr Wickham had been induced to join them. Thus the somewhat impromptu card party had been got up for the entertainment of Mrs Long's boarders.

Mr Collins, being present in the haberdashery, was gratified to be included in the invitation, and thus the Bennet coach conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton.

Unfortunately Charlotte, who also received an invitation, was unable to attend: Mrs Lucas was currently having a tiff with Mrs Long about a round of cheese she had ordered at the grocers which had been mistakenly delivered to Mrs Long. By the time the grocer had discovered his error the cheese was all eat up, and Mrs Lucas had been obliged to order another.

The beginning of the evening was not auspicious for Elizabeth, as Mr Collins, noticing Mr Bingley's attentions to Jane at Meryton, had transferred his attentions to her. She had to endure him as a partner at whist playing against Mrs Long and Mary. The other table was much more merrily employed with a very loud game of _Speculation_ Lydia was quite boisterous and seemed to constantly flutter around the handsome Mr Wickham. When Lizzy glared at Jane to encourage her to rein Lydia in, she was met with an understanding smile from Mr Wickham, indicating he bore it all with good grace. She gave a small smile in return.

After ignominiously losing their game of whist to Mrs Long and Mary, Elizabeth thankfully swapped places with Jane. The other table had started on a game of lottery tickets, and when the game had caught Lydia's attention, Mr Wickham offered to get Miss Elizabeth a cup of tea.

Bringing this back to a little side-table slightly removed from the game he was at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told—the history of his acquaintance with Mr Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr Wickham began the subject himself, enquiring how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asking in a hesitating manner how long Mr Darcy had been staying there.

"About a month," said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, "He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand."

"Yes," replied Mr. Wickham; "his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy."

Elizabeth could not but look surprised.

"You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?"

"As much as I ever wish to be," cried Elizabeth very warmly. "I have spent three days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find him favourably spoken of by anyone."

"His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with the younger Mr Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand memories."

"My father was a highly respected attorney but he gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley estate. He was most highly esteemed by Mr Darcy, and they were great friends, to the extent that old Mr Darcy stood as my godfather when I was christened."

"A military life is not what I was intended for — the church ought to have been my profession, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased young Mr Darcy to honour his father's wishes."

"Indeed!"

"Yes—the late Mr Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was a most attentive godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere."

"Good heavens!" cried Elizabeth; "but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?"

"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr Darcy chose to doubt it."

"This is quite shocking! I thought him haughty and bad tempered, but had no idea he could be so callous. He deserves to be publicly disgraced."

"Some time or other he will be—but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him."

_But you just have,_ thought Elizabeth, who had a sharp wit for irony. Then she remembered Charlotte's caution.

"But what," said she, after a pause, "can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?"

"A thorough, determined dislike of me—a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Darcy and I played together constantly as children and had the same tutors. Had the late Mr Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He has not a temper to bear any sort of competition."

"When I was seven my father sickened and died within half a year. Old Mr Darcy vowed at my father's deathbed to look after me in his stead. This vow he honoured in his lifetime, but three years later he was himself killed in a carriage accident with his wife."

"Oh!" exclaimed Elizabeth, not knowing what to say.

Mr Wickham was not sure if the exclamation was in sympathy with him or Mr Darcy so he hurried on.

"Then I was banished from the Pemberley estate, and sent to school in the south. I did not see Darcy again until Cambridge. Were it not for his actions, I could now be happily settled at a snug parsonage with a wife, and children at my feet."

The tête-à-tête was interrupted when Mrs Long called them to supper.

Elizabeth departed with her head in the whirl. She could think of nothing but of Mr Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way home. Her introspection went unnoticed on the journey because neither Lydia nor Mr Collins were once silent. Lydia talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the fish she had won; and Mr Collins in describing the civility of Mr and Mrs Long, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.


	16. Chapter 16

Darcy had been dreading the Netherfield ball. He hated the social functions that constituted the marriage mart: avoided free-for-alls like Almacks at all costs; and only went to private balls when his Aunt Evelina, Lady Matlock, insisted on his presence - typically arrived late, and left after an hour. But he could hardly avoid the Netherfield ball when he was staying as a guest in the house; and, of course, this meant standing up for the first set with Miss Caroline Bingley.

And what of that other lady who disturbed his mind? He had decided to ask Miss Elizabeth for one dance. He felt that their truce demanded that much, given his behaviour at the Meryton assembly and the Lucas's soirée.

He had gritted his teeth when Caroline had pulled him into the receiving line beside her, but dutifully nodded and greeted the inhabitants of Meryton, letting the Bingleys do the real work.

Dr Gregory had arrived with the Lucases, escorting Charlotte - _so far, so good_. The Bennet carriage was one of the last to arrive. He'd examined his perfectly manicured nails as the younger daughters tumbled out of the carriage. _Good Lord! Miss Lydia was wearing a white muslin dress decorated with red ribbons._ She ran to greet Colonel Forster and his wife.

"Do you like my dress sir? I made it specially for the officers!" Lydia coquetted.

Colonel Forster laughed and kissed her hand.

Darcy shook the hands of more guests as his eyes flicked back to the carriage. The three elder girls had descended the steps, but were hanging back as their mother fussed over them. Mr Bennet and the parson he had seen in Meryton had descended from the box.

Mr Bennet had arrived at the receiving line with his wife on one arm and his eldest daughter on the other. Jane Bennet was looking as beautiful as ever in the golden silk she had worn at the Meryton assembly. She had added a pearl necklace and pearl drops to the ensemble. Bingley gushed.

Behind them the parson was escorting Mary and Elizabeth. Darcy didn't like the way he was holding Elizabeth, with his other hand clasped on top of the one she threaded through his elbow - as if he was afraid she'd get away. The sister on his other elbow seemed forgotten.

Elizabeth was wearing a dark silk. In the sparse moonlight, it almost looked black - a temptress. When she stepped into the light of the flambéaux he'd thought momentarily that he might combust, such a wave of heat passed through his body. She was wearing crimson silk, which combined with her chestnut locks and slightly tanned skin, was wreaking havoc with his self-control. He forced himself to take several deep breaths.

He didn't trust himself to speak to her at that moment and merely nodded to her. He would ask her to dance later.

But Mr Collins held her fast while he announced his connection to his Aunt Catherine to Darcy and apologised for not paying his respects earlier. Darcy frowned but was saved from saying something cutting in Elizabeth's presence by Colonel Forster, who moved to shake his hand.

After Colonel Forster had been greeted, Caroline disbanded the receiving line and clasped his elbow. Although several of the militia officers had turned up in response to their blanket invitation, Darcy had not seen Wickham and was silently grateful. His self-control was already being tested enough tonight.

The band struck up the music as the line for the first set formed behind Caroline and Darcy. Far down the line he glimpsed Miss Elizabeth dancing with the parson. Caroline was beginning to annoy him with the way she slid her fingers over his every time they touched in the dance. Halfway through the set, she pretended to stumble against him. He was feeling decidedly pawed.

When the set broke up, he was grateful when Captain Carter claimed Caroline's hand for the next dance. Darcy positioned himself near a group of militia officers and watched as Elizabeth headed towards her friend Miss Lucas, but Darcy was distracted when he heard Wickham's name mentioned.

"He received a dispatch from London just before we were about to set out...Some urgent business...Said he'd join us later, as soon as he'd dealt with it."

_Ah, so he had made his excuses, good! _But when Darcy had turned his attention back to Elizabeth and Charlotte, they were gone.

Elizabeth had dragged Charlotte out onto the terrace.

"Charlotte, I need to talk to you. I've discovered the source of animosity between Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham."

"I'm listening," replied Charlotte.

Lizzy then proceeded to relate Mr Wickham's story.

"How very extraordinary that he should blurt that out to you!" said Charlotte. "Does he have verbal diarrhoea?"

Lizzy laughed.

"He said that when old Mr Darcy died, he was banished from the Pemberley estate; and later denied the living that have been intended for him, so that he was forced to seek his fortune by joining the military, instead of being settled as a clergyman. In short, Mr Darcy has robbed Mr Wickham of any certainty of domestic felicity. He must seek his fortune now!"

"Banishment is a harsh word," said Charlotte. "How old was Mr Wickham when this occurred?"

"Well," said Elizabeth recalling the conversation, "he said he was seven when his father died, and that old Mr Darcy died three years later. So he would have been ten."

"But Elizabeth, Mr Wickham and Mr Darcy must be a similar age. You said they played together as children: Mr Darcy cannot have been responsible for making the decision to send Mr Wickham away."

"Yes, of course, you are quite right," agreed Lizzy thoughtfully.

"And banishment is such a harsh word to use. Did he say which school he had been sent to in the south?"

"No, but I believe he told Lydia it was Harrow," said Lizzy.

"Harrow!" exclaimed Charlotte, "Poor him! it is one of the most expensive public schools! One might have just as well said that Mr Bingley was banished to Eton! Doing it much too brown! His story doesn't hold any water for me. I'd like to hear Mr Darcy's version of it."

At this point Dr Gregory approached them, looking very handsome in the same blue coat and buff breeches he had worn to the Meryton assembly.

He grasped both Miss Elizabeth hands, holding them out from her body and running an appreciative eye over her.

"Miss Elizabeth you have been hiding your light under a bushel!"

"My mother will be very gratified by your response. It is a beautiful dress is it not?" said Lizzy, greatly pleased.

"Do you have any room on your dance card?" he asked.

"Indeed sir," she smiled, "the next set is free."

He led her onto the dance floor as the second set was forming.

Darcy had caught sight of Dr Gregory and Elizabeth as soon as they walked back into the ballroom. He was annoyed that Dr Gregory had stolen yet another march on him, and was determined not to let Miss Elizabeth out of his sights again. He could see them chatting easily with each other and laughing throughout the set as he stood with his back against a pillar and his arms crossed.

Finally the set came to an end, and Dr Gregory gave a bow to his partner. Darcy felt a strong urge to give him a push as he came up behind him.

"Miss Elizabeth, may I have the pleasure of the next set?" Darcy requested.

Elizabeth was rather surprised by this request but acquiesced gracefully. Knowing that Elizabeth did not like Mr Darcy, Dr Gregory stood his ground until the music struck up for the next set. He tried to make conversation with that gentleman but Mr Darcy answered in monosyllables, and stared fixedly at Miss Elizabeth. He was quite an intimidating man. Taking his leave of Elizabeth, Dr Gregory squeezed her hand for courage, an action which made Darcy grit his teeth.

They danced an energetic reel. In fascination, he watched the garnet cross she was wearing bounce on her heaving chest. How he wished he could plant his lips there! Part way through the set he noticed that Miss Elizabeth had a wicked grin on her face, and he found himself smiling at her in return. As the last notes of the dance sounded, they burst out laughing.

Darcy sought to catch his breath. "May I ask what is so funny Miss Elizabeth?" he huffed.

"I could ask you the same thing, sir!"

"I asked first!" he retorted.

"Very well, I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams you dancing a reel!"

_Could it be possible that she dreamt about him?_ "Am I so ridiculous then?"

"Not at all. You dance remarkably well for someone who dislikes dancing!" she smirked.

"What a backhanded compliment!"

They contemplated each other for a moment in silence.

Then Darcy blurted, "Do you have another set free?" _Dammit, why did he say that?_ It was as if his tongue had a mind of it's own.

"I have the supper set free," she answered honestly.

_Oh dear! In for a penny_... "Then will you reserve that set for me?"

"Certainly, sir," she curtsied. Mr Darcy seemed to be properly honouring their truce. If he kept this up she might even deem him nice.

Then Mr Collins was at her elbow.

"I believe, dear cousin, that this is my set?" he said, smiling unctuously at Darcy all the time.

Darcy was revolted as Collins appropriated Miss Elizabeth's hand. The fellow seemed to drip oil.

Charlotte Lucas was standing against his pillar, so Darcy asked her to dance.

Unbeknownst to Darcy, Mr Wickham had made his appearance in the ballroom during the reel. He had decided that a ball was too good an opportunity to survey the local heiresses to be missed, despite the complications of Darcy being present. His strategies were simple: he had arrived late to avoid the receiving line; and he intended to exude as much charm as possible while ensuring he was always in company. He knew Darcy was too punctilious to start a ruckus at his friend's ball.

Surveying the room, Mr Wickham considered the famous Caroline Bingley. _Pity she was with the Darcy party. He'd heard she had a dowry of twenty thousand pounds: a plump pigeon! Well no, she was rather scrawny for his tastes, but he wouldn't have shirked to do his duty by her, while getting his jollies elsewhere._

Striding up to a group of officers, he slapped Denny on the back to announce his presence.

"Denny you must introduce me to these lovely ladies!" he announced to all and sundry, then bending closer to Denny he whispered, "especially the lovely Miss King."

Miss King was an heiress who had recently arrived in Meryton. Denny and Sanderson had been introduced by Mrs Long last week and she had not hesitated to fill them in on the particulars when Miss King had departed. These had been duly relayed to Wickham in their shared room after lights out. She had a dowry of ten thousand pounds.

Halfway through the next set Darcy noticed that Wickham was also dancing and promptly stood on Miss Lucas's toe.

"I beg your pardon Miss Lucas," said Darcy, blushing.

"No matter, Mr Darcy. I have nine others," replied Miss Lucas calmly.

_Good heavens! She has a sense of humour!_ thought Darcy, _but then, she is Miss Elizabeth's friend._ He tried to ignore Wickham and they made it through the rest of the set without further incident.

After bowing to Miss Lucas he reclaimed his pillar until the supper set.

Miss Elizabeth had been dancing with Colonel Forster and now made her way over to him.

He grasped her glove and led her onto the floor but was surprised to hear a waltz struck up. Behind him he heard Caroline give a shriek, just as he spotted Bingley with Miss Jane Bennet in his arms. He was wearing a very self-satisfied grin.

"Do you waltz Miss Elizabeth?" he managed to croak.

"Of course, Mr Darcy," she replied with a sweet smile.

Thereafter was the most exhilarating and tormenting dance of Darcy's life. Darcy had, of course, danced many waltzes in company. But he had never had to question himself before on just how closely he should hold his partner. She seemed disastrously near, but still too far away. He could smell her hair. It was the most delicious smell he'd ever encountered, so sweet! He had to restrain himself from burying his nose in it. Then he became aware of his hand on her back. _Was it too low?_ He wanted to shift it lower. He shifted it higher.

Around they whirled, like they were part of the same machine. He wished it could go on forever.


	17. Chapter 17

The final notes of the waltz sounded and Darcy reluctantly withdrew his arms from Miss Elizabeth. The spell which entranced him was broken, and he noticed there were very few couples on the dance floor: Bingley, himself, and two militia officers were the only men standing; and they were all partnered with a Bennet sister. Either not many people knew the steps here, or the waltz was still frowned upon in the Hertfordshire countryside, despite it's proximity to London, where it was now danced regularly at ton balls.

Darcy offered Miss Elizabeth his arm to walk into supper, "Do not people dance the waltz here?"

"It is not yet danced at the assemblies, although I would've expected the militia officers to know the steps. Perhaps they were lacking partners. My aunt taught us the steps, and Charlotte knows them too."

Mr Darcy glanced round to see Charlotte sitting near Mary, talking to Mr Collins.

Entering the supper room, he filled two plates with some delicacies from the very tempting board that Caroline had arranged and searched for Miss Elizabeth. She waved from an isolated corner table where she sat in front of two glasses of champagne punch. Darcy would have preferred the safety of numbers at one of the larger tables, but at least it saved him the trouble of making smalltalk with people he neither knew nor cared about.

As he settled in his chair, Lizzy took a sip of punch, a deep breath, and began, "When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance."

The effect was immediate. Darcy felt like a bucket of icy water had been thrown over him.

Lizzy saw a look of hauteur overspread his features, but he said not a word.

At length Darcy spoke, and in a constrained manner said, "Mr Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends—whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain."

"He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship," replied Elizabeth gently, "and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life."

Darcy made no answer. His face was a mask.

"I remember hearing you once say, Mr Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created."

"I am," said he, with a firm voice.

"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

"I hope not."

"It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first."

"May I ask to what these questions tend?"

"Merely to the illustration of your character," said she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. "I am trying to make it out."

"And what is your success?"

She shook her head. "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as to puzzle me exceedingly."

"I can readily believe," answered he gravely, "that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either."

"But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity."

"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours," he coldly replied.

In the ensuing silence between them, Lizzy was deeply vexed to hear her mother, who was seated at a nearby table, talking loudly to Lady Lucas of her expectation that Jane would soon be married to Mr Bingley. It was an animating subject, and Mrs Bennet seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them, were the first points of self-congratulation; and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as Jane's marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men.

Darcy had had enough and was relieved to see some of the guests returning to the ballroom. Taking this opportunity he stood up, gave a shallow bow and bid Miss Elizabeth a curt goodbye.

Charlotte, who had surreptitiously been watching the pair, quickly occupied the vacated seat.

"Lizzy, what on earth did you say to Mr Darcy?"

"Why, I asked him for his side of the story, of course; but he would not defend himself, so I can only assume that Mr Wickham has the right of it!"

"Oh Lizzy, sometimes you are so like your father! Why should Mr Darcy discuss his private affairs with you? It was impertinent to ask."

"You said you wanted to know."

"Indeed I do, but I would not dream of asking him directly! You are either foolhardy or brave!"

Lizzy blushed. "Probably both," she sighed.

"What a shame," said Charlotte. "You looked so good together during the waltz. I thought for sure he was taken with you, especially after asking you for the second dance!"

"Not at all, Charlotte, you read too much into it. It is just part of our truce."

Charlotte shook her head sadly.

For her part, Lizzy could only think that her friend was beginning to sound like her mother.

Their tête-à-tête was interrupted by Dr Gregory who had come to claim his second dance with Lizzy. He had been enjoying himself immensely at the ball and could think of no better way of ending the evening than with his beautiful assistant.

Darcy crossed the ballroom quickly seeking the solitude of his room. He was upset, but he carefully moderated his progress, considering himself to be walking at a brisk, but seemly pace. That was not the opinion of several males who hastily removed themselves from his vicinity as they saw him storming towards them with a very dark look on his face.

He headed towards the stairs, passing an officer who lurked in the shadows of a curtained alcove off the hall. He heard a giggle as he took the first step and, turning instinctively, recognised the officer, in profile, to be Wickham. In a flash he parsed the scene before him, Wickham had backed a girl into the alcove and had his hand under her skirt. The white muslin and red ribbons were all too recognisable. Darcy felt ill as his sister's face flashed before his eyes. He accelerated immediately, bounding up the stairs three at a time.

For his part, Wickham had frozen momentarily upon realising Darcy had come into the corridor. He had, after all, foolishly separated himself from the other officers in order to pursue a little sport. When Darcy disappeared up the stairs without stopping, he assumed he had remained undetected, and continued to frolic with the Bennet girl. Now, if only he could convince her to step into the library, or one of the other unoccupied rooms...

Arriving in his room, Darcy slammed the door with relief. _Had he done the right thing in not intervening? Yes_. It was none of his business and he dare not cause a ruckus at his friend's ball. Still, he was not sanguine and felt sick to the stomach.

He slumped against the wood panelling. _God, release me from this hell-hole of Hertfordshire!_


	18. Chapter 18

**Alright folks, don't get too upset. This is PnP fanfiction after all. Thus there must be some angst, but the HEA will be there at the end. A few things have been adjusted for the modern reader. Honestly do you think Darcy would be upset if Lydia ran around with a sword? Very Freudian Andrew Davies!**

Darcy knew he had made a mistake in dancing with Miss Elizabeth Bennet as soon as he opened his eyes on the following morn. In his dreams he had spent all night in congress with her, sometimes with her acquiescence and sometimes not. In all his dreams she wore that damn crimson dress. Fragments of these dreams still revolved in his head.

In one dream, they were walking near a stream in their ball clothes. The filtered sunlight through the trees gave a glorious yellow-green cast to the light. She had been walking with him, hand in hand, smiling up at him while they conversed, her eyes sparkling. He'd pushed her gently back against a willow and kissed her long and languorously. His lips had burned a path down her chest, past the cross on her necklace, until he went down on his knees as he raised her skirts...

Then they'd been arguing on the dance floor about Wickham, spitting words of venom at each other as they revolved at a frenetic speed in the waltz. He'd pulled her closer possessively, and she had begun to struggle, whereupon he'd pushed her against the pillar he'd been leaning against, and taken her there while she screamed and hurled abuse at him.

The latter dream truly frightened him because he was not a violent man. Certainly he had never lifted a finger in violence against a woman and he was perturbed that he had even thought of such a thing.

He'd gone riding to clear his thoughts. He was disturbed by the violence of his feelings for Miss Bennet and a general repugnance for her family: the way Mrs Bennet thrust her daughters at every Tom, Dick and Harry; the hoydenish behaviour of Miss Lydia Bennet; and the lazy indifference of Mr Bennet who did not seem to care provided his comfort was not impaired. Darcy also privately detested the way he called his wife 'Mrs Bennet' as if he were gently chiding her - reminding her that she was his chattel. His own parents had addressed each other by their Christian names.

In his foul mood even the beautiful and decorous Jane Bennet came under his censure as the insipid beauty who had wound Bingley around her little finger. Lurking in the background there was of course the beautiful Delilah who had ensnared him, but by focusing on her family's sins he kept her at the periphery of his thoughts.

Returning to Netherfield for breakfast at nine, he was surprised to encounter Caroline, who was not in general an early riser, at the breakfast table. She poured forth her worries about her brother's heart. This seemed a welcome change from his own troubles. Together they determined that some time spent in London cooling his heels (or his heart) was what Charles needed. Fortuitously, a letter had arrived while Darcy was out riding, summoning Charles to London to attend to business, and they determined the entire Netherfield party would follow him.

The dust from Charles's horse had not settled when Caroline summoned the Fletchers and advised them of their imminent departure. The stables were advised, footman began hauling luggage, and the gargantuan process that was shutting down Netherfield began. Caroline sat down to write a farewell note to sweet Jane Bennet.

* * *

><p>At Longbourn, Mr Collins was also considering his night at the ball. He had managed to dance with each of his five cousins during the night. He could not be sanguine about the popularity of the sisters: with the exception of Miss Mary, not one of them had sat down for a single dance. Miss Jane continued to be the focus of Mr Bingley's attentions. Miss Kitty had coughed throughout their dance, while Miss Lydia's eyes roamed elsewhere as she constantly waved to officers. Miss Elizabeth he considered too vivacious, she seemed to be constantly smiling and laughing with her partners: even the estimable Mr Darcy, who deserved to be treated with far greater dignity. That whittled his selection down to a single candidate and Mr Collins now considered her more thoroughly in the light of his future felicity.<p>

Mr Collins was a clergyman by necessity rather than by choice. He had no interest in theology. He spent his spare time gardening and beekeeping; and he privately thought he could make a much better squire for Longbourn then Mr Bennet, whose erudition seemed strangely at odds with his position as an agriculturist.

At the time Mr Collins had trained as a clergyman fifteen years ago, the chances of him ever inheriting Longbourn had seemed remote, but when Mr Bennet's bevy of daughters had not been succeeded by son, his hopes had been raised. Of course he was only twenty years Mr Bennet's junior, and the distinct possibility existed that the man would outlive him, and the entail would pass him by entirely. If that were the case, his only chance of benefiting from the entail would be to have it pass to his son, but his attempts to find a wife among his flock were not bearing fruit. Thus it had been somewhat of a revelation when Lady Catherine had advised him to look for a wife among his cousins, who surely had an interest in their continued existence at Longbourn. In short, Mr Collins was not so much looking for a wife as a womb.

It might have been supposed that in Mary Bennet, Mr Collins had had the happy luck to find much more. His sermons came verbatim from the publications of others and he only added a choice phrase here and there echoing the thoughts of his patroness, who expounded at length on every topic, no matter how inconsequential. In short, his mind was not much caught up with theology, and a wife who could fill this ecclesiastical void might have been thought just the ticket.

Unfortunately this was not his view on the matter: the last thing he wanted was a wife who could throw his ignorance in relief. He had no wish to be saddled with a bluestocking whose knowledge of liturgy overshadowed his own, even if she deferred to him. A cleverer man might have realised his luck in acquiring a wife whose brain he could pick for the rest of his life; but Mr Collins own weak mind demanded that he be first in intelligence under his roof, effectively discounting three quarters of the female population.

Thus, with Miss Mary's affinity for scripture a black mark against her, he had found a more worthy object in the demure Charlotte Lucas, who was standing in the garden at Longbourn the afternoon following the ball. At 27, some considered Charlotte to be on the shelf, but she was young enough to suit Mr Collins' purposes.

Charlotte was of course more intelligent than Mary - she would not otherwise have been Lizzy's friend, but she was smart enough not to show it. She could not see anything to be gained from Lizzy's current path in the world, which would undoubtedly leave her a lonely spinster, and repeatedly begged her to be more practical. As noble as Lizzy's aims to help the world were, they were at odds with society's expectations, and really more suited to a young man. If she wanted to benefit the general good, she would be better off embroidering an altar cloth for the Longbourn church. Only Dr Gregory's arrival on the scene had given Charlotte some relief. In him, Lizzy might find a worthy mate. He was one of those rare males who did not seem to be daunted by her intelligence. It was generally only the stupidest males, or those who did not know her well, who asked her to dance. Possibly because Dr Gregory was so intelligent himself, he did not feel threatened by her wit or her hunger for learning.

Charlotte often accompanied Lizzy home from the infirmary. Lizzy had initially requested Charlotte's escort to support the ruse that she was spending her mornings at the Lucases, but Charlotte had been eager to have a legitimate excuse to spend time at Longbourn. She found the company of the elder Bennet sisters infinitely more interesting than her mother and her own siblings. Thus it had become her habit to have lunch at Longbourn and spend several hours there afterwards before returning home.

She therefore had a ringside seat for the spectacle that was Mr Collins' visit. At first, she felt a little sorry for the man: Lizzy held him in such disdain; she had little tolerance for weak minded females and even less for nincompoops of the opposite sex.

Lizzy had succinctly summed up her feelings with the following pithy comment:

"To have had the benefit of a university education and ended up like that is unthinkable!"

Charlotte noticed how Mr Collins avoided the older sisters, looked upon the antics of the younger sisters with horror and, strangely, seemed impervious to Mary's polite overtures. These usually came in the form of declamation of a biblical verse, followed by a polite question on his opinion.

Charlotte herself had done nothing more than smile at Mr Collins' clumsy flattery when it was directed at her. Given his tendency to spew it in all directions, she had thought little of it.

Thus she was taken by surprise when Lizzy departed to find a second pair of garden shears, to find herself alone in the wilderness with Mr Collins; whereupon he went down on bended knee, and requested her hand in marriage.

Her initial shock had quickly given way to her practical mind: here was something she had given up all hope of ever obtaining: the chance to run her own household.

She prevaricated and asked him to dinner. When Lizzy returned, she cited a need to help her mother with the evening meal and quickly departed. Her excuse had been truthful enough, if somewhat self-fulfilling.

Her walk to Lucas Lodge that afternoon was the most momentous of her life. By the time she had arrived at her parents' house, she had weighed up all the pros and cons. The chief of the latter might have been thought to be that she hardly knew him from a bar of soap. Instead, it was the possibility that her acceptance might cause an irrevocable breach with her best friend. Certainly, she would incur Mrs Bennet's displeasure.

Having arrived at the front steps of Lucas Lodge with the decision in his favour, she quickly informed her mother of their impeding dinner guest and the nature of his visit; then sought out her father.

Thus after giving his apologies to a confused Mary, whom he encountered in the front hall, Mr Collins had slipped out of Longbourn before dinner, and returned from Meryton an engaged man. Slipping into the house in the moonlight, he had felt every bit the adventurous young lover. Avoiding the ladies in the upstairs sitting room, he had gone straight to bed.

Departing after breakfast in the morning in the hired Tilbury, he could feel nothing but sanguine at the success of his mission. He graciously thanked his hostess, citing a wish to revisit in the near future.

Charlotte had delivered the news to Lizzy on their walk to Longbourn on the following day. The result had been a heated argument in which Lizzy had questioned Charlotte's sanity in no uncertain terms. Upon arriving at Longbourn, Charlotte had stopped at the front gates, knowing she would not be welcome once Mrs Bennet was apprised. But she begged Lizzy to deliver the news, in whatever way she deemed the least damaging, before the banns were read for the first time in Meryton on Sunday.


	19. Chapter 19

**In response to Dizzy Lizzy's request I have started a board for Via Luton on Pinterest. You can follow the link on my profile.**

* * *

><p>Caroline left her missive to Jane on the hall table, and thus it was not delivered to Longbourn 'til the following day. The footman arrived just as Jane was about to accompany Lizzy on her regular morning walk to the infirmary.<p>

As they left the village of Longbourn, Jane broke the seal and scanned the contents.

"It is from Caroline Bingley: she writes that the whole party will have left Netherfield by this time, and be on their way to London—and without any intention of ever coming back again."

Jane dropped her hands limply to her sides and continued to march ahead without really seeing anything.

"Is that all it says?" asked Lizzy.

Jane shook her head wordlessly, but did not look at her sister.

Lizzy snatched the letter from her sister's hand.

..._When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but we are certain it cannot be so. I am convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again. We have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd—but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you..."_

Finally regaining her voice Jane managed, "It is evident by this that he comes back no more this winter."

"It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean that he should," replied Lizzy.

"Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his own master. But the passage about Mr Darcy's sister particularly hurts me."

Lizzy held up the letter and Jane pointed to the offending paragraph.

_...Mr Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she engenders in Louisa and myself is inspired by the hope we dare entertain of her being hereafter our sister. My brother admires her greatly already. It is an event which will secure the happiness of so many."_

"Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister; that she is perfectly convinced of her brother's indifference; and that if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him, she kindly means to put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion on the subject?"

"Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?"

"Most willingly."

"You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is in love with you, and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to town in hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you."

Jane shook her head.

"Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot. She is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding dress. But the case is this: We are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and she is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion that when there has been one intermarriage, she may have less trouble in achieving a second."

They continued to walk for a moment in silence.

"I wish her luck with the second part of her plan," Lizzy continued, "for Mr Wickham tells me that Mr Darcy is already engaged to Miss de Bourgh, Lady Catherine's daughter. I hear she is a sickly aristocrat and will do him very well!"

"Lizzy that is unworthy of you," said Jane sadly.

* * *

><p>Lizzy saw her opportunity for Charlotte's disclosure at breakfast two days later when Mrs Bennet noticed Charlotte's scarcity and asked whether she was ill.<p>

The result was all too predictable: Mrs Bennet was loud in her abuse of Charlotte and lamentations for their future. These were so loud that even Mr Bennet's library was not impervious to them. He scowled at Lizzy as he left the house to check a fence that had come down two months ago. For her part, Lizzy was glad to escape to the infirmary.

Fortunately no blame had fallen on Mary, whom Mrs Bennet had deemed to have done her best to engage her unworthy cousin's affections. No, it was all that Jezebel Charlotte Lucas's fault.

Under the circumstances of the earlier revelation, the sisters decided to keep the bulk of Caroline's communication to themselves. As the weeks went by, Mrs Bennet wondered at Mr Bingley's failure to return to Netherfield, and when Lizzy suggested that Jane return to London with the Gardiners after Christmas, she heartily applauded the idea.

_After all_, thought Lizzy slyly, _Caroline has effectively invited her._

Some cheer returned when the Gardiners arrived for Christmas. There were three little Gardiners now, with the youngest in leading strings. Lizzy took the older children out with Mr Gardiner to select a tree which that gentleman dutifully hacked down, and the two of them transported their prize back to the house with the children running circles around them like excited dogs. Mr Bennet toasted them with his glass of port through the library window as they wended their way across the lawn.

After setting the tree in the parlour, all the sisters helped the little Gardiners dress it. Mary played hymns on the pianoforte while they sang and decorated. Kitty had crocheted some new decorations which were birds and stuffed them with barley. Lydia and Lizzy held the children up to place the decorations on the tree according to Jane's directions. The littlest Gardiner got to place the star on top, held aloft by his father.

Mrs Bennet, despite her low spirits, managed a wonderful Christmas dinner, finished off, of course with Mrs Hill's famous plum pudding served with custard. Mrs Lucas had been trying to get the recipe for that one for years.

Mrs Gardiner followed her sister-in-law around, listening patiently to her complaints and trying to offer new hope for the future. Thus when it came time for the Gardiner's departure, she was sanguine that her eldest might have a chance to meet new beaux in London, outside the confines of their limited society in London.

Lizzy pressed Jane's hands eagerly as they walked out to the carriage. "Give Mr Bingley a kiss for me," she whispered in Jane's ear. They both managed a giggle.

Then the steps were put up, and the carriage was off, with the young Gardiners yelling boisterous goodbyes from the windows.

* * *

><p>Charlotte was married in the new year. The ceremony involved considerable pomp to satisfy Mr Lucas's notions of his position in the world, but Charlotte's dress was simple. Mr Collins stayed at Longbourn for two days prior to the nuptials. Mrs Bennet was shocked at his impudence in requesting lodging after betraying them so signally. Mr Bennet attributed it more to his nephew's lack of sensibility, but urged caution in the light of his future importance to the family.<p>

Charlotte seemed close to tears on her departure and begged Lizzy to come visit her in the future. Lizzy squeezed her friends hands tightly and promised to write, as she could not think of leaving Dr Gregory in the lurch.

Lizzy continued her work at the infirmary. February saw her treating a private who had been flogged some weeks ago by applying maggots to a wound that had festered. Dr Gregory had established a set of clientele for his morning calls which included the widow Bartlett, who seemed to have developed some sort of chronic illness. He usually arrived back from these visits just before Lizzy arrived at ten in the morning.

He walked in on a Tuesday morning with a bounce in a step and a frown on his face.

"Lizzy you must congratulate me. I am engaged."

"Engaged? Well that is wonderful! Accept my heartfelt congratulations!"

"Thank you Lizzy. You are too good."

There was an awkward silence, during which it became obvious that Dr Gregory was searching for words. Lizzy had expected him to enlighten her about his betrothed, so his next words were slightly puzzling.

"I cannot thank you enough Lizzy for your support in helping me to establish the infirmary. It is my hope to soon realise my dream of opening a small hospital."

"Really? you secured a patron? That is wonderful!" replied Lizzy.

"A patroness, actually Lizzy. My betrothed, the widow Bartlett..."

The widow Bartlett?

Lizzy knew from gossip between her mother and Mrs Long that Amelia Bartlett was the relict of a rich Bristol shipping merchant, some twenty years her senior. Orphaned by the smallpox, she had grown up partly in Hertfordshire with her spinster aunt before relocating to other relatives in Bath. She had recently inherited her aunt's property east of Meryton.

Suddenly the widow's chronic illness took on a new aspect. She was ten years older than Dr Gregory... Lizzy she quickly reigned in these unworthy thoughts.

"Have you located a site for the hospital?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes, we'll be using the old guild hall. I'm about to sign a lease today."

Sign the lease today? Lizzy felt slightly hurt that he hadn't confided in her earlier.

"Well then, we'll have to get to work straightaway on the fit out!"

"Yes well..." said Dr Gregory, "I cannot thank you enough Lizzy for your support in helping me to establish the infirmary...but Amelia believes it is really inappropriate for you to continue here... in the circumstances," he finished lamely.

Lizzy felt a pit open up inside her stomach.

"You don't want me to help any more?"

Dr Gregory grasped her hand. "It's not a question of what I want Lizzy... As a married man..."

She drew her hand back as she felt tears start to her eyes. All her hard work, learning of medicine, doing the ledgers...for nought.

She wanted to say "I understand" but she couldn't trust her voice. She gave a quick curtsy and hurried to the door. Once she was beyond Meryton's town limits, she ran all the way back to Longbourn.

Lizzy announced Dr Gregory's engagement to her family but only wrote to Jane of her forced retirement. The worst part was her mother's solicitude.

"Don't worry Lizzy: you did your best, all that hard work in the infirmary and he marries Amelia Bartlett, that snatch-cradle! The ungrateful wretch! I'm sure he is not such a very good doctor after all!"

The mood at Longbourn was decidedly depressing. Dr Gregory sent a bunch of flowers which did little to mollify Mrs Bennet. When Mr Lucas reminded Lizzy again of his upcoming visit to his daughter in Kent, she did not hesitate to accept his renewed invitation to accompany him. She would visit Charlotte after all.


	20. Chapter 20

Upon arriving in London Mr Darcy could only congratulate himself on his narrow escape. But it did not take him long to realise that the change of locale had not managed to rid him of Miss Elizabeth's blithe spirit.

Peace was nowhere in sight. When he went horse riding in Hyde Park, he was invariably hailed by matrons tooling about in landaulets with their charges. They alternately simpered and scolded, reminding him, inevitably, that he hadn't yet responded to the invitation to their ball/card party/soirée, whereupon he bowed politely and promised to look into it. He then proceeded to charge up and down Rotten Row looking neither left or right, until his horse stopped frisking, whereupon he sought to contrive his exit through the gates without encountering another carriage. Male acquaintances who hailed him without success could only shake their heads at his abstraction. He mentally noted that if things got any worse he would be obliged to send his groom to exercise his horse.

He wrote to his sister, who had removed to Pemberley several weeks ago; and to Mrs Annersley, who related that Georgiana was still not in spirits, and advised continued separation. Thus when his sister wrote that his Aunt Evelina had invited her to Matlock for Christmas, he urged her to accept the invitation.

He began to have nightmares in which George Wickham had backed his sister into an alcove... He had thanked God for his success in narrowly averting her elopement with Wickham, and never previously thought about what might have occurred before he had arrived.

These nightmares of course alternated with far more licentious dreams of himself with Miss Elizabeth, but he tried not to think of them.

Attempting some sport as a diversion, he got a bad bruise at Jackson's Boxing Saloon and could've been run through several times at Signore Grimaldi's fencing school.

He bought several new editions at Hatchard's but found the books could currently not engage his mind. Thus when he found the flyer for the Royal Society's next meeting amongst the pile of invitations that had been transported to his desk, he determined to go.

The lecture on optical effects during the heat treatment of glass was given by David Brewster. Afterwards, the Earl of Sandwich encountered Darcy as he strolled the room with his friend, Sir Joseph Banks, a former president of the Society. Both were getting on in years.

"This is Darcy," the Earl informed his friend, rather loudly, "the Earl of Matlock's nephew."

"Good evening, Sir Joseph," bowed Darcy.

"So Banksy, tell him the tale of your expedition to Tahiti with Sir James Cook to measure the transit of Venus," demanded the Earl.

"Ah yes, well that was a memorable place! Very welcoming people, though a trifle light-fingered: we hadn't been there a day before two fellows nicked all the equipment we needed to measure the transit. I legged it for seven miles across the island chasing the pair of them to retrieve it; checked the distance on Cook's map when I got back."

"So you were able to measure the transit after all," said Darcy.

"You could say that," said Banks, rather ambiguously.

"The three measurements didn't agree particularly well," explained the Earl.

"Or at all," added Banks. "But the botanical and zoological treasures we found in New South Wales more than made up for it. The kangaroo was one of them."

"Tell him of the treasures you found in Tahiti, Banks."

"Ah the ladies! Yes! they were something else! They get around in nothing more than a grass skirt and are very eager for company. They have a tradition in Tahiti of letting their women entertain visitors. I guess you could view it as a type of outbreeding philosophy. Their king sized myself and Cook up when we were initially presented, and introduced me to his two eldest daughters after dinner. So they take me off to this hut, sit me down on a bed, and one of them proceeds to smile at me and wave her arms round beguilingly while she turns round very slowly on the spot. Then she took off her grass skirt, and she and her sister proceeded to entertain me for the next hour. Never had a welcome like it in my life."

During the course of this anecdote, Darcy had begun imagining Miss Elizabeth in a grass skirt and was trying to decide the colour of her nipples when he realised that Banks had finished speaking and was looking at him expectantly. He blushed a deep red.

Seeing his embarrassment, the Earl shook Darcy's hand and moved his friend on.

"I believe that boy's a bit of a prude," he whispered in Bank's ear as they wended their way to a small group of fellows. "Bright young boy, but comes from Derbyshire."

"Ah yes," replied Banks, nodding his understanding. "Cook was from Yorkshire."

* * *

><p>Darcy had Christmas dinner with the Bingleys at Hurst's townhouse. The food was the latest in French cuisine but he couldn't help thinking he would have preferred a roast, with Georgiana for company. Caroline pawed him constantly, but he couldn't find the energy to flinch. His one concession to caution was to ensure he was never alone in the house; even following Bingley when he went to use the chamber pot. He arrived home three parts disguised, and took a bottle of brandy to bed to finish the job.<p>

For his part, Bingley was not his cheerful self. He seemed to be more deeply affected by Miss Bennet than by any prior inamorata. Caroline had apparently given him a severe lecture about his responsibilities as the head of the family. Bingley had knuckled down and agreed not to return to Netherfield for the present, but refused to give it up. It would be stupid, he reasoned, to break the lease: they should at least benefit from the harvest.

In the new year, Caroline was gratified to receive vouchers for Almacks: all that grovelling to the Countess Lieven had finally paid off. She was less pleased to receive a missive from Jane Bennet, advising of her arrival in London, and her address in Gracechurch street: a place where Caroline had no intention of stepping.

She was even more perturbed when not two days later, Miss Bennet arrived on her doorstep accompanied by a fashionable female who she later discovered to be her aunt. Caroline espied them from an upstairs sitting room and flew to Charles' study, where she discovered her brother ensconced with his man of business; while Darcy perused the bookshelves in a desultory fashion.

Grabbing Darcy's forearm, she hissed into his ear, "You must keep Charles in here until I can get rid of Miss Bennet. She has come to call."

Staring down at the talons that gripped his arm, Darcy could only wonder why Caroline thought he, or anyone else for that matter, would ever marry her when she behaved like this.

"Very well," he replied, and shaking off her grip, he selected a book and settled himself in an armchair near the window where he could view the carriage below. Fifteen minutes later, the carriage left without need for his intervention.

Caroline had continually harried him to accompany them to Almacks but only Darcy's deep worry for his friend's continued listlessness had eventually driven him to accept.

His fear of stepping into that place again had turned out to be entirely justified. At first he had been obliged to dance two sets with Caroline while she continued with her usual antics. But she had speedily been bumped by far more formidable ladies. Near midnight, he had managed to escape out a back door with the aid of Lady Jersey, who had been watching his trials from a distance.

He arrived home feeling as if he'd been mauled.

His valet Finn was waiting in his dressing room when he walked into his chambers.

"Finn...", Darcy started, and then stopped to bite his lip.

"Yes, sir?"

"Would it be too much to ask to draw a bath for me before I go to bed?"

Finn was a little startled by this singular request, the Master usually bathed in the morning, when there was plenty of hot water to be had from the kitchens.

"I'll see what I can do sir," he replied and took himself off.

In the end, he had been gratified to fulfil the Master's request thanks to the diligence of the housekeeper, Mrs Flowers. She had caught two maids in horseplay in Miss Georgiana's room earlier that day, and determined that they would scrub every pot in the kitchen before they went to bed. Thus Darcy got his bath and the maids got a respite.

As he crawled into bed, he wistfully remembered his waltz at the Netherfield ball which seemed to have merged with his dreams into a fantasy world that had no basis in reality.

* * *

><p>For the whole of February, he ensconced himself in affairs of business: writing endless instructions to his steward at Pemberley; driving his man of business to distraction; and accompanying Bingley to the city to scope new investments.<p>

Having avoided all social engagements with the Bingleys after the disastrous night at Almacks, he eventually gave in to his friend's entreaties to accompany them to the theatre. He even deigned to have dinner with them first, and arrive with them in their carriage. He fully intended to escape in a hackney afterwards to avoid Caroline's machinations.

They arrived, fashionably late, part way through the first act. Caroline pulled him to sit beside her in the front of their box, while Charles and his older sister Louisa sat behind. Mr Hurst had headed off to the Daffy club. While Mr Darcy half-heartedly directed his attention to the stage, Caroline spent her time preening herself and observing the other patrons in the boxes. Having finished this survey, she directed her attention to the pit where other worthies such as Darcy's cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam could occasionally be found.

Darcy sensed her stiffen beside him and followed her eyes to the middle of the pit, but could not discern anything amiss there. However when the act ended, he was left in no doubt: rising more quickly than the other patrons, there could be no doubt as to the identity of the lady in the crimson gown. She had turned full about to address two other ladies who remained seated: one of these was undoubtedly Miss Jane Bennet. The garnet cross dangled at her neck. She had added a black lace half dress, but the colour of the gown, which was forever etched in his memory, was clearly visible beneath.

Caroline stood quickly to block her brother's view of the pit and began to discuss the worthies in attendance with Louisa. Darcy realised he was not breathing and gulped air.

Around this time, Lizzy got the distinct feeling she was being watched, and looking up, perceived Mr Darcy staring at her. Her first instinct was to wave at him, but realising this would be uncouth, she instead took her sister's hand and began to make her way to the foyer.

Caroline, glancing around soon after, perceived that the pit was clear of trouble, and offered to retrieve refreshments with Mr Darcy.

Charles was rather startled by this unprecedented event and protested that he should better go with Darcy instead, but Caroline insisted.

"I am sure Almeria Alcott glanced this way and I know you would not wish to miss her," cooed Caroline.

Charles wished no such thing. Almeria Alcott was the latest heiress who Caroline had decided would suit Charles admirably. Charles knew Miss Alcott would not look twice at him if Darcy was in the room.

Exiting onto the mezzanine, Darcy dutifully escorted Caroline to the bar at the end of the floor where he purchased two shots of port and two glasses of ratafie. When he turned back, Caroline was missing, and he walked back towards the stairs in search of her. Looking down into the foyer, he spotted her at once, talking animatedly to the Bennet sisters, who were accompanied by a stylishly dressed older couple: the lady, he guessed, was a similar age to himself.

He hesitated to descend into the crowded foyer with the drinks, but this became a moot point when Miss Almeria Alcott appeared beside him. Deftly handing the tray of drinks to a passing serving boy, and directing them back to the box, she appropriated his arm, and suggested they walk up and down to stretch their legs before the next act. They had not taken two steps forward when Miss Alcott's chief rival, Lady Frances Colby, hooked herself to his free arm and declared she would join them.

After one hideous circuit of this sport, during which the ladies alternately cooed compliments to himself and directed veiled insults at each other, they arrived back at the stairs. Caroline, looking up, and seeing her swain beleaguered, gave an unladylike squawk, and hurried back up the steps.

The bell rang for the second act and he turned with all three ladies back to the box.

Then, making a snap decision, he murmured, "Excuse me, nature calls."

Caroline was infuriated when he ran down the stairs, but given his excuse, she could hardly run after him.

He caught them just before they reached the doors.

"Mr Darcy!" exclaimed Miss Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet!" he said, reaching for Jane's hand.

She duly proffered it and he planted a light kiss on the back of it.

"Forgive me, I got caught up on the Mezzanine, else I would have been down sooner."

Then he turned to Miss Elizabeth and drank in her appearance. Her gown and the overdress looked even more enticing up close.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said as he reached towards her.

He felt his skin tingle as he grasped the tips of her fingers. She had, of course, worn gloves at the ball. Time seemed to slow down as he bent to kiss her wrist. He hesitated above her skin before descending to taste her.

After a brief moment, she pulled her hand away: the usher was about to close the door.

"Nice to see you, Mr Darcy. We must go."

He returned slowly, wondering briefly who her unknown companions might be. He considered abandoning the theatre there and then, but it would not do.

Returning to the box, he spent the second act staring at the chestnut curls piled on top of her head while Caroline fidgeted beside him. He supposed she was nervous he might alert Charles to the Bennets' presence, but he had no wish to open old wounds.

After the curtain descended, Caroline insisted they visit the Duke of Orford's box and they stayed until the pit had cleared of the _hoi polloi._

Descending to the foyer, Darcy made his excuses, claiming another engagement at the Daffy club. That almost caused Charles to laugh. Then he was in a hackney, wending his way alone in the darkened streets to Darcy House.

_Why had he done it?_ He knew no good could come of it. _But there, it was done._ In the darkness he imagined her sitting beside him in the hackney. He would lean to kiss her, and peel off that lace overdress... _Stop it! _he told himself, _You are only making things worse!_

* * *

><p>In the morning, of course, he knew himself to be a hopeless case. He had not been so ridiculously enamoured of a woman since his teenage crush on Lady Miranda Crossley: a lady ten years older than himself who seemed to possess every feminine grace and charm. She eventually married his boorish cousin the Viscount Stanley. His midnight interludes with a phantom Miranda consisted of some heated kissing and vague notions of disrobing her. His dreams of Miss Elizabeth were, however, infinitely worse.<p>

After matriculating to Cambridge, he had been dragged to a brothel with his cousin Richard by his uncle, the Earl of Matlock. He remembered the incident with repugnance. His initial hope that he might pay the girl to leave him alone had been thwarted when he realised the proprietress and his uncle were watching through a peep hole from the next room. He'd dutifully shed his clothes. At least the girl, Rosamund, had seemed to know what she was doing, and after subjugating himself to her ministrations, his body had betrayed him. He was from then in no doubt as to what happened during conjugal relations.

He had not made a habit of going back initially, but he'd caved to Richard's influence when he'd returned from the war in the Peninsula. Having tasted the forbidden fruit, his naive dreams of Miranda had transformed into sensory feasts of Elizabeth: like opening Pandora's box. It was torture.

Several days later, Richard stopped at the Darcy townhouse on his way back from delivering a communique to Newcastle. When he suggested they spend a night on the town, Darcy did not demur.

"Very well," said Darcy rising from his desk. "Shall we be off?"

"What, now?" asked Richard in surprise. "It's only 3 o'clock!"

Darcy raised an eyebrow.

Richard considered for a moment: the communique in his pocket was not an urgent one.

"Lead the way," he smiled.

They caught a hackney.

**Sir Joseph's Banks tale is loosely based on true events. Read the hilarious history of the discovery and settlement of Australia in David Hunt's Girt. Great stocking filler for your husband or boyfriend for Xmas. The URL is available in my profile.**


	21. Chapter 21

Mr Williams, Mr Fitzhubert, what a pleasant surprise!" said Madame Amelie as they walked in the door. Like many men who visited her brothel, Darcy and the colonel had adopted pseudonyms which they used in front of the ladies. Because Richard casually referred to his cousin as "Wills" and Darcy called Richard "Fitz", they had played it safe with plausible variations of these names. Darcy had become "Mr Williams", while Richard had decided on "Mr Fitzhubert". Darcy wasn't entirely happy with Richard's choice because it was the surname of the Regent's mistress, but Richard thought himself terribly clever in finding a name apposite for their nefarious purposes.

Of course, Madame Amelie knew exactly who they were: they would not have gotten through the door of her exclusive establishment otherwise. But she was quite willing to play their game and privately thought them very wise. She discretely sent her assistant scurrying upstairs to ensure that their girls were ready.

After engaging Richard in polite conversation about the war effort for five minutes, she led them upstairs to the private sitting room shared by the girls she had selected several years ago for the cousins.

Most of the girls at Madame Amelie's establishment shared cramped quarters in the attics. They entertained in the public rooms on the first floor, and only retreated to the boudoirs on the second floor to service their clients in privacy. Sarah and Genette were among the lucky few who had quarters on the third floor where they had their own bedrooms which adjoined private parlours. The ladies of the third floor had exceptional qualities: many of them were very beautiful, and most of them were better educated and more genteel than the ladies who slept above stairs. Members of this elite group were reserved for specific gentlemen, and Darcy paid a handsome retainer for the privilege. Richard wasn't so fussy, but he certainly wasn't going to argue with his cousin's generosity.

By the time they had made it up the stairs to the third floor, Madame's assistant had already descended past them with a nod to her mistress. Thus she opened the door to a handsome parlour decorated in a French style to reveal a scene of remarkable domesticity. Genette sat embroidering upon a settee, while Sarah sat beside her in a fauteuil reading a book aloud.

As they entered, one of the girls, with strawberry blonde hair hanging loose on her shoulders, stood with real pleasure on her face, and ran to her swain.

"Fitz!" she cooed as she fell into his arms.

"My god, is this a salon?" exclaimed Richard grabbing his squeeze, Sarah, by the waist and swinging her round, "I thought it was a brothel!"

Madame Amelie smiled as she retreated into the hallway.

"What are you reading?" he said, as he playfully snatched the book from her hands.

It was _Fanny Hill_. "Ah," he smiled, "it is a brothel."

After tickling her belly, he made a great show of hoisting her onto his shoulders and carrying her off to her bedroom, while she giggled.

Darcy stood silently near the doorway. Genette had lowered her embroidery to her lap upon his entrance, while she watched him expectantly. On the disappearance of her companion, she sought to set the embroidery aside but he raised a finger to stop her.

"Continue your needlework," he murmured as he paced nearer.

Dutifully she complied.

Sitting demurely on the settee with her black locks twisted up in a braid, Genette was perhaps the most unlikely inhabitant of Madame Amelie's house. She had started her life as Ruth, a clergyman's daughter from Yorkshire, who might have been sitting at that moment in a comfortable sitting room in the North; if not for her somewhat hasty decision to run away from home at the age of seventeen. This had been done on the day she had become betrothed to a fat gentleman of forty-odd years, who had sought her father's permission to woo her on completing mourning for his first wife. That poor lady had died shortly after delivering their fifth babe.

Wrapping her belongings in a tablecloth, she had fled her family home in the middle of the night to take the Mail to London. Her original intention had been to make her living respectably as a governess or paid companion. But after many weeks at the agency she had failed to find an employer and had run to the end of her funds. A gentleman had met her as she contemplated the waters of the Thames from Blackfriars Bridge; and after listening sympathetically to her story, had taken her along to Mme Amelie's, whence he was destined.

That lady had treated her with a consideration she had not expected, and after a short stint in the attics learning her trade, she had arrived, relatively unsullied, to Darcy's arms on the third floor, with the more experienced Sarah as her companion.

She considered Mr Williams, as she knew him, as he hovered nearby. He was obviously rich, far better off than his cousin, who she had heard was an earl's son. He was also quite handsome, better looking than his ordinary cousin, but without his charm. He was a very serious man. She had never seen him smile, but she had no cause to repine: he was a skilled lover. This she had determined through her conversations with Sarah. Though somewhat aloof and mechanical, she would not have traded him for his more affable cousin for his weight in gold.

He knelt on the Aubusson rug in front of her. She paused with her needle poised.

"Keep stitching," he reminded her gently again.

She obeyed, as she watched him reach for her hem and thread his hand beneath it. He coaxed her knees apart and caressed the insides of her thighs with the backs of his knuckles before moving higher. He watched her face imperturbably as he moved.

The needle wavered. It was difficult to keep a steady hand.

Satisfied with his progress, he stood up and, finally casting the hoop aside, pulled her to her feet. He stood behind her and planted several kisses on the back of her neck. This surprised her: he hadn't ever kissed her much before.

He balanced her over the back of the settee, pulling her skirts up high as he ran his hands up the backs of her thighs and caressed her bottom with his fingers. She heard him open the drawer of the bureau where the sheaths were kept. Then he hoisted her hips higher, tipping her head downwards onto the cushions of the seat, as he insinuated himself into her.

A giggle erupted from Sarah's bedroom as he began to pick up pace, but Genette did not make a sound. She braced her hands above her head to maintain her position against his pushes. Her eyes were screwed shut as she sought desperately to maintain her silence.

Finally he gasped, and after pausing for a moment, withdrew. He reached down to cup the front of her shoulders in his palms, hauling her over the back of the settee, before walking around it, and depositing her gently on the cushions. She noticed he had already closed the front of his breeches.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked as she raised herself on her elbows.

"No, thank you," he said as he tugged at the cravat which he had loosened at some point.

He stuffed the creased strip of snowy starched muslin into the pocket of his greatcoat which he had draped over the back of the fauteuil, and produced a patterned silk Belcher neckerchief from another pocket. Only his valet could tie the complicated waterfall knot that he favoured for his cravat, and even if Darcy did manage to effect a simple knot in it, it would not look well with the remnants of the original creases showing.

He walked to the bureau and poured himself a glass of brandy, then tied the neckerchief using the mirror above it.

As an afterthought, he turned to her and added, "Do you wish it? Shall I ring?"

At this point the door to the bedroom opened and Richard emerged, pulling on the jacket of his uniform. He was flushed, and somewhat surprised to see Genette recumbent on the settee.

"Didn't get very far did you, Wills?" he laughed.

Darcy regarded him coolly over the rim of his glass. "Are you ready?"

After the gentlemen had left, Genette rang for tea, then settled down to contemplate her taciturn lover while she waited for it to arrive. He had seemed somehow different this time and she was at a loss to put her finger on the change; but she worked it out over the ensuing week when he arrived every evening, sometimes with, and sometimes without, his cousin: Mr Williams was in love.

Her father had been a devotee of Chaucer, and she imagined a tale of her own situation. She would be _The Proxy Doxy_.


	22. Chapter 22

**I'm sorry if the previous chapter upset a few people but I assure you it is essential to the plot. Thanks to RenaissanceBookLover for your review: I have tried to make things historically accurate. Thanks also to Babe Pryor for your leavening humour. Personally I thought the cup of tea was funny but perhaps my humour is too black. The English are so phlegmatic.**

The night after her theatre outing with Jane and the Gardiners, Elizabeth set out for Kent with the Lucases. Sir William Lucas had spent the previous night at Whites whence he'd been invited by one of his grand acquaintances from St James. He spent the first half of the trip relating anecdotes of his evening. Mariah, not yet being out, spent the evening playing spillikins with the older Gardiner children before they were put to bed. She was eager to hear of the play and of their meeting with Caroline Bingley.

As they left the city behind for the countryside, every object in the journey was new and interesting to Elizabeth, who had spent most of her days in Hertfordshire, and never been beyond London. Mariah too, had her nose glued to the window.

As Sir William finally ran out of stories and grew drowsy from the rocking carriage, Lizzy cast her mind back to the chance meeting with some of the Netherfield party last night. It was a shame that Mr Bingley had gone to Vienna on business: she knew her sister still craved his company. After the incredibly condescending conversation with Caroline during the interval, Mr Darcy had seemed almost eager to greet them. The kiss he had bestowed upon her hand had been unexpected, and she was quite perturbed by the reaction it elicited in her body. But it would not do to think of it: he had kissed Jane's hand also after all.

Her mind flew back to the Netherfield ball: he had almost seemed a different person there, enjoying the reel and bantering with her; and the waltz had been truly sublime. He quite put her uncle in the shade as a dance partner! But then he reverted to his familiar starched and haughty form in the supper room, like a reverse frog prince. Clearly it had been a mistake to mention Wickham, but why the man could not have a simple discussion was beyond her.

When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park flanked the road on one side. At length the Parsonage was discernible: the garden sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales, and the laurel hedge: just as Charlotte had described it. As the carriage stopped at the gate, Mr Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door.

Mrs Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was gratified to find herself so affectionately received. She saw instantly that her cousin's manners were not altered by his marriage; his formal civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some minutes at the gate inquiring of her family, particularly dwelling on Mr Bennet's health. As soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time, with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife's offers of refreshment.

After sitting long enough to admire every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the fender, to give an account of their journey, and of all that had happened in London, Mr Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he attended himself. To work in this garden was one of his most respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise, and owned she encouraged it as much as possible.

Every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind. He could number the fields in every direction, and could tell how many trees there were in the most distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which the country or kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground. Mr Lucas was particularly taken with the grand structure.

From his garden, Mr Collins would have led them round his two meadows; but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white frost, turned back; and while Sir William accompanied him, the women retreated to the house.

Upon re-entering the parlour Lizzy walked over to the pianoforte.

"Is this the goat piano?" she asked moving a runner on the top to reveal some deep scratches.

Her mother had generously bestowed the damaged instrument on Mrs Long who could not play, but expressed a wish to add to the gentility of her parlour.

"Yes!" laughed Charlotte, "Mrs Long gave it as a housewarming gift! None of the officers in her house play, and it ended up being used as a rather expensive sideboard. It arrived two days ago."

Being a keen piano player, Charlotte had been saddened to discover the Parsonage had no instrument. Instead, she had been invited to use the second best piano at Rosings which was located in a room 'where she would bother no one'.

"Thanks to the goat and Mr Darcy's generosity I now have a piano to call my own."

They both laughed.

Charlotte took her sister and friend over the house, extremely well pleased, probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband's help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr Collins could be forgotten, there was really an air of great comfort throughout, and by Charlotte's evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often forgotten.

Over dinner Mr Collins continued to simper and boast of his patroness, with Sir William unwittingly encouraging him by exclaiming at each new revelation.

The ladies were only too glad to withdraw when the port was set on the table.

At breakfast the catalog of Lady Catherine's beneficence continued.

"We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home. Her ladyship's carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say, one of her ladyship's carriages, for she has several."

Mr Collins then thankfully took himself off for his daily spiritual visit to Rosings. On returning, however, he had sad tidings, Miss de Bourgh had caught a chill and there was no possibility of a dinner at Rosings that week.

Over the course of her first day at the parsonage, it could not escape Lizzy's notice that Charlotte only had one servant. This girl not only acted as a handmaid to Charlotte, but as the housemaid, doing everything from the dusting to hauling water. Charlotte herself presided in the kitchens with the girl as her assistant. As they sat down to tea in the afternoon, Lizzy could not help remarking on it.

"Surely Mr Collins' income stretches to another servant. Why do you not get some more help, Charlotte?"

"Yes it does Lizzy, but Lady Catherine thinks one servant will suffice for the Parsonage. It would not do to cross her."

"How officious of her! And as to the maid, if you are only allowed one servant, surely someone more experienced is necessary."

"Lady Catherine recommended her personally. She was a kitchenmaid at Rosings before coming here."

About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to throw the whole house in confusion; and, after listening a moment, she heard somebody running up stairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened the door and met Maria in the landing place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out—

"Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make haste, and come down this moment."

Running down the stairs she was greeted by a grand spectacle through the dining room window: the pigs had got into the garden.

Mr Collins, wearing his bee-keepers hat was chasing them round in circles. Every time they reached the open gate they baulked and headed back towards the luscious vegetables.

"Oh dear," said Charlotte, "I think I had better help."

Lizzy followed her friend out into the yard. With their help, Mr Collins was finally able to eject the pigs and then could only rue the loss of produce.

Heading back to the house, both of them six inches deep in mud, Lizzy and Charlotte encountered Mariah and Sir William standing open-mouthed at the back door. Lizzy was only glad that Caroline Bingley was not there to see them. Nonetheless, it proved an amusing anecdote to write to Jane.


	23. Chapter 23

Miss de Bourgh was laid low by her chill for a fortnight, and though this was a source of great distress to Mr Collins, Elizabeth found she could spend her time very agreeably without Lady Catherine. Every morning she set out to explore the many beautiful walks around the Parsonage and into Rosings Park. After breakfast she helped Charlotte with her domestic duties. Mrs Bennet would have been horrified to find her daughter doing work usually performed by Longbourn's servants, but it proved a pleasant novelty to Elizabeth, and she wasn't about to mention it in her letters. Then in the afternoon, the ladies sat down to talk, play the pianoforte and sew. Indeed, it did not seem too bad a life if one could forget Mr Collins; and the combination of the spiritual visits to Rosings in the morning, and Sir William's company in the afternoon, kept him agreeably occupied.

Finally Miss de Bough was declared fit and the long awaited invitation to dine was issued. Mr Collins was everything officious in the lead up to their departure, dispensing all sorts of advice on what to expect and how to conduct themselves.

When the ladies were separating to prepare, he said to Elizabeth—

"Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which becomes herself and her daughter. I would advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest—there is no occasion for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved."

As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half a mile across the park. Despite Mr Collins' encouragements, Elizabeth had not walked towards the house in her morning rambles, being careful not to infringe upon Lady Catherine's privacy. She saw as she got closer to the house that the gardens became more formal. These were beautiful but she preferred the natural beauty of the property further from the environs of the house. For his part, Mr Collins detailed the cost and exclusivity of every ornament they encountered ending with an enumeration of the windows in front of the house, of what the glazing altogether had originally cost Sir Lewis de Bourgh.

From the entrance-hall, of which Mr Collins pointed out, with a rapturous air, the fine proportion and the gracious decor, they followed the servants through an ante-chamber, to the room where Lady Catherine, her daughter and her companion, Mrs Jenkinson, were sitting. Her ladyship, with great condescension, arose to receive them.

Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was not conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by silence; but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone, as marked her self-importance. Observing her countenance and deportment, Elizabeth soon found some resemblance to her nephew, Mr Darcy; though he was as silent as she was garrulous.

Turning her attention to her daughter, Elizabeth was astonished at how thin and small she was. There was neither in figure nor face any likeness between the ladies. Miss de Bourgh's complexion was pasty; her lips bloodless, even a little blue, she was dreadfully thin and her arms had so little flesh on them they resembled two sticks. She spoke very little, except in a low voice, to her companion Mrs Jenkinson.

And this was Mr Darcy's betrothed? It seemed hardly possible. Elizabeth was hard pressed to think who had the worst of the bargain: the gentleman stuck with a wife who could claim neither beauty, health or spirit; or the lady, forced to endure marital relations which would clearly be a trial to her.

"So you are one of the Bennet sisters," declared Lady Catherine. "I cannot think what you were about in not fixing your interest with your cousin Mr Collins, when he visited last year. It seems the height of foolishness to me."

Mr Collins looked appropriately smug.

"With four sisters and the property entailed," she continued, "you must surely worry about how you will find your way in the world once your father passes."

Elizabeth was unsure how to respond to this, or indeed if a response was required at all. Clearly Mr Collins was a great font of information.

She looked up and saw that two gentlemen had walked into the room: one was a robust man with a moustache wearing regimentals; the other, she was astonished to see, was Mr Darcy. He was staring at her with that intent expression on his face. His aunt had not yet noticed him.

"No wonder all five sisters are out at once! Your mother must be desperate to secure husbands for you before you end up in the hedgerows."

The man beside Darcy cleared his throat.

"Darcy!" exclaimed Lady Catherine turning in their direction, "how good it is to see you! Come give me a kiss," she said holding out her hand. "And you too Richard," she added as an afterthought.

After the gentlemen performed this obeisance, she introduced the visitors from Hertfordshire.

"Miss Bennet and I have met before," interpolated Darcy.

Lady Catherine threw an interrogatory look at Lizzy, arching her eyebrows and looking down her nose.

"Ah, yes!" confirmed Elizabeth belatedly, waiting in vain for Sir William and Charlotte to be also claimed as acquaintances, "we met in Hertfordshire."

"A friend of mine recently leased a property there," explained Darcy, "and I have been helping him to get it in order."

"You must say your hellos to Anne, Darcy," prompted Lady Catherine.

Darcy duly stepped forward and planted a perfunctory kiss on the hand of the silent Miss Anne de Bourgh.

The other gentleman coughed again.

"May I present my cousin," said Darcy, "Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam."

The colonel stepped forward to claim Lizzy's hand, "Enchanted, Miss Bennet."

As he stepped back, Lizzy noticed Darcy give his cousin a small but surreptitious kick with his boot. This was returned in kind by the colonel. Lady Catherine appeared not to notice.

The butler announced dinner and Lady Catherine directed Darcy to take Miss de Bourgh's arm, claiming Mr Collins as her own escort. Richard offered his arm to Elizabeth, receiving a nasty backward glance from Darcy; while Sir William brought up the rear, escorting his two daughters. Mrs Jenkinson seemed to have evaporated.

The dining room was very grand with a liveried footman standing behind each chair, and several others positioned near the sideboard. Darcy was sat to the right of Lady Catherine with Miss de Bourgh on his right. Mr Collins sat on Lady Catherine's left, and Lizzy was positioned to his left; with Col Fitzwilliam on her other side. Sir William and the Collins sisters made up the end of the table.

Then proceeded the most awkward dinner of Lizzy's life. Throughout the first course Mr Collins slurped his soup loudly, which seemed not to perturb Lady Catherine, but severely discomposed Lizzy. Lady Catherine talked non-stop and no one else got a word in edgewise. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh seemed not even to try, while the colonel's sallies to Miss Bennet were interrupted by Lady Catherine and met with venomous glances from Darcy.

After the covers had been removed, a card table was set up; and under Lady Catherine's direction Darcy, Miss de Bourgh, and Mr and Mrs Collins sat down to a game of loo. Sir William Lucas was gratified to be admitted as a sixth.

Then her Ladyship demanded entertainment.

"Do you play and sing, Miss Bennet?"

"A little, but not well."

"You will never improve if you do not practice, the instrument is over there," she said gesturing grandly.

Lizzy, feeling somewhat like a jester in court, wondered if she should crack a joke, but suppressed this thought with a smile.

"Let me turn the pages for you Miss Bennet," offered the Colonel.

Darcy looked up quickly but then cast his eyes back down to the card table.

The colonel sat down beside her on the piano stool and then, hidden behind the instrument, proceeded to surreptitiously play the left hand, leaving Lizzy to focus on the right. He gave her a small grin before turning the page with his right hand.

Darcy continued to glance occasionally in their direction, but at some point his venomous looks seemed to give way to wistful stares.

Finally the card table broke up, the carriage was offered to Mrs Collins, and gratefully accepted. Upon the arrival of the coach, there were many speeches of thankfulness on Mr Collins' side and as many bows from Sir William. As soon as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, which, for Charlotte's sake, she made more favourable than it really was. But her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means satisfy Mr Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her ladyship's praise into his own hands.


	24. Chapter 24

**Thanks for the bouquets. I'm trying to ignore the brickbats, though constructive criticism, stated politely, is always welcome. Thanks to Dizzy Lizzy for one of the idioms in this chapter, I kept wanting to use Australianisms like 'spitting chips'.**

* * *

><p>After the dinner guests departed Rosings, the gentlemen retreated to the library with brandy.<p>

"So this is what occupied you in Hertfordshire," said the colonel, filling the bottom of two snifters, "Miss Bennet certainly is very lovely!"

"Be quiet you devil," returned Darcy. He could not believe he had now encountered Miss Bennet at Rosings. His attempts to run away, and he had to admit now that he _had_ been running, were fruitless. It was if she were tied to him by a very long bit of string, which was getting shorter by the moment.

"Now, now! there's plenty of Miss Bennet to share. We were only talking after all. You cannot be serious about a lady in her situation. You heard what Aunt Catherine said: five daughters, the estate entailed, and no dowry to speak of."

"Can we change the subject?" growled Darcy.

"Subject, subject...Ah, yes, the latest _on dit_ from the House of Matlock! My father is fit to be tied, the Duke of Rufford pinched his latest ladybird right out from under his nose. He'd just set her up in her own establishment not three months ago. He knows how to pick them! Unfortunately he does not have pockets deep enough to keep them."

Darcy frowned, "How is aunt?"

"Mother's retreated to Derbyshire, of course. She hates it when the old tabbies stop talking when she walks into a room."

There was a silence.

"She says Georgiana is a little better. Smiles occasionally now. Wasn't very happy at Christmas when I saw her. It's a pity you could not have been there yourself."

"Mrs Annersley thought it best for me to stay away. Did Georgiana like the sheet music I sent her?"

"Yes, I suppose she did. She sat down to play some of the pieces, but your gift did lack the personal touch."

"You think I should have got her something else?"

"I think she needs a hug."

* * *

><p>The following day, after Mr Collins set out with Sir William in the gig to show him the country, the cousins walked across Rosings park to visit the Parsonage.<p>

Charlotte saw them from her husband's room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding:

"I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me."

Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment, before their approach was announced by the door-bell.

Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; but his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs Collins, sat for some time without speaking to anybody. At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual way, and after a moment's pause, added:

"Have you heard any news of Mr Bingley from Vienna?"

_Good Lord! What had Caroline told her? _Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "No."

"My eldest sister was pleased to see Miss Bingley at the theatre two weeks ago. Jane has been in town for the last three months and was hoping to see Caroline much earlier. Indeed, she decided to visit London at Caroline's behest."

This was news to Darcy. _What on earth had Caroline written to Miss Bennet?_

There was another awkward silence.

The colonel looked round the room. "You have a piano! May I?"

"Of course, Colonel Fitzwilliam," cried Charlotte. "I did not know you played!"

"Ah!" said the colonel, "It is a well kept secret! Is it not Miss Bennet?"

Lizzy smiled back, "Indeed sir, and we would be highly gratified if you would play our goat piano!"

Charlotte winced.

"A goat piano you say?"

He sat and plonked a few keys. "It does not say baa baa!"

"No sir, that is sheep!" Lizzy jested. "Goats say maa maa!"

"Let me see," said the Colonel starting to play the scales. "Do-ray-me-maaaa!"

They all burst out laughing, except Darcy, who was dreading what he knew must come next.

"So," said the colonel as he idly began to play Greensleeves, "Why is this a goat piano?"

"Perhaps, we should leave the tale to Mr Darcy," replied Elizabeth slyly.

"No I pray not. You tell the tale, Miss Bennet," replied Darcy.

"But if _you_ tell the tale Mr Darcy, you may tell it as you wish!"

"I would not dare with a witness in the room," he replied.

"But if _I_ tell it Mr Darcy, I might embellish it in such a way as to embarrass you," she replied.

"I am not afraid of you, Miss Bennet."

The colonel was now agog to hear the tale.

"Very well..." said Elizabeth. "Once upon a time, there lived at Longbourn a very merry goat, who spent his days happily keeping the lawns in order, and only _occasionally_ eating the roses. One fine day he was going about his business, when he encountered a dog named Argos..."

With a grin, the colonel looked at Darcy. His colour was heightened.

"Argos had never met a goat before, and politely asked to play.

Unfortunately the goat had some experience of dogs and promptly ran away.

Seeing a lady nearby, the goat petitioned her for help, but she did not understand the language of goats and she too ran away.

So...the lady sought refuge in the house,

and the goat sought help from the lady, and the dog just wanted to play..."

Darcy could no longer stand the excruciation. "My dog chased the goat into the house and it jumped on the piano!"

"Ah!" said the colonel, enlightened. "So now it is a goat piano!"

"Very well!" he said, adjusting himself in the seat. "Perhaps I can do it justice with some Baaaach!"

The ladies tittered and Darcy groaned at the Colonel's bad pun.

Richard then broke into a selection from Bach's Well Tempered Clavier. Part way through the second piece the sounds of Mr Collins and Sir William entering the vestibule could be heard, and the colonel improvised an ending. Standing quickly to acknowledge the applause, he grasped Elizabeth's hand and pulled her towards the piano. He retreated to lean against the mantel, from which point he orchestrated another round of applause for himself. This was the tableau which greeted Mr Collins and Sir William on their entry. Elizabeth was bemused by his antics.

Mrs Collins called for tea, and after devouring the seed cake Charlotte had baked the previous day, the visitors stood to depart. Elizabeth walked to the front gate with the Colonel, while Darcy trailed behind trying to divest himself of Mr Collins and Sir William.

"Would you care to explain why your musical skills are such a secret sir?" she asked _sotto voce._

"The sons of earls do not play the piano, Miss Bennet," he replied in kind. "Or that, at least, is what my father and Aunt Catherine believe; and I'm not sure we can trust Mr Collins with a secret."

"Then how on earth did you learn?" she asked.

"That," he replied, kissing her hand, "is a story I hope to tell you when we next meet."

Then turning towards his cousin he barked, "Common Darce, I don't have all day!" and made a show of impatience to be off.

This enabled Darcy to divest himself of his barnacles and escape the Parsonage gates.

Elizabeth could only wonder at their obsession with Mr Darcy. Surely an earl's son merited an equal amount of attention? She thought that Sir William merely took his tone from Mr Collins; and as to the latter, she could not decide whether he slavishly followed Lady Catherine manners, or if he thought Mr Darcy might be responsible, as the spouse of Miss Anne, for the divestment of further livings.

Sir William left the next day. His visit had been long enough to convince him of his daughter's being most comfortably settled, and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as were not often met with.


	25. Chapter 25

Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners were very much admired at the Parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasures of their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, however, before they received any invitation thither—for while there were visitors in the house, they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter-day, almost a week after the gentlemen's arrival, that they were honoured by such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very little of Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the Parsonage more than once during that time, but Mr Darcy they had seen only at church.

The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawing-room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.

Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs Collins's pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and Elizabeth saw her chance to pose her question.

"Sir, you promised to tell of your education on the piano," she coaxed.

"Certainly, Miss Bennet. You might have observed that Darcy and I know each other well, in fact, he is like a brother to me. I grew up with Darcy at Pemberley and was entranced by the piano playing of his governess."

"So Mr Darcy can play too?"

"No, no, his governess merely played for her own pleasure, although she did teach Georgiana once she was old enough. I started playing by copying her, and when she discovered my poor attempts to learn, she offered to give me lessons. I must say that I derive great satisfaction from my ability to make music."

"And why is this a great secret?" asked Lizzy.

"Merely because my father would not approve. Darcy's governess offered to provide him with musical tuition along with all the other subjects she taught, but my father does not consider it a fitting occupation for a man."

"And what of Bach and Herr Mozart?" asked Elizabeth.

"They earn their bread that way, Miss Elizabeth and are not members of the ton."

Elizabeth felt tempted to ask if being useless was mandatory for the ton, but she was not sure if the Colonel was being ironic or serious, and thought it safest to say nothing.

The conversation turned to other topics and they talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before. They conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as well as of Mr Darcy. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of envy. After a while her ladyship did not scruple to call out:

"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is."

"We are speaking of music, madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.

"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?"

Mr Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's proficiency.

"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," said Lady Catherine; "and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel if she does not practice a good deal."

"I assure you, madam," he replied, "that she does not need such advice. She practises very constantly."

"So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well unless she practises more."

When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play for him. She sat down directly to the instrument and he positioned himself beside her as before, to play the left hand while she focused on her right and sang. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and making with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said:

"You mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

"I shall not say you are mistaken," he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you."

Even with the three of them grouped around the piano Lady Catherine continue to talk over the top of them.

"Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn."

Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his Aunt's praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry her, had she been his relation.

Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility, and, at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument. She and the colonel continued to play pieces from the _Well-tempered Clavier,_ interspersed with songs which Lizzy sang very creditably in her clear bell-like voice. These ranged from a scotch air to an Italian love song.

After Darcy's initial astonishment that she knew Italian well enough to sing it, he drifted off into agreeable daydreams for the duration of the song, until at its end the spell was broken when a footman announced that her ladyship's carriage was ready to take the inhabitants of the Parsonage home.

* * *

><p>In the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society. His general amiability reminded Elizabeth of George Wickham; though, in comparing them, she saw there was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners, though she believed he might have the best informed mind.<p>

But why Mr Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice—a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really animated.

On one occasion he arrived when the Collins had walked into town. She heard the bell and then footsteps, and knowing that the maid was hanging washing on the line, she had just got up to investigate when he walked, unannounced, into the room.

Having arrived thus informally, she addressed him in a familiar way, "I'm afraid you've missed the Collins, Mr Darcy. They have just left."

"Good!" he replied, and then closing his eyes for a moment, he started again. "Good day, Miss Elizabeth!"

_Was he censuring her for her lack of formality?_ In a fit of pique she decided to lay the burden of conversation at his door.

He stood there staring at her, shifting his weight from foot to foot, almost swaying on the spot, and biting his lip.

"Your hair!" he said, "have you done it in a new style? There seem to be more curls?"

She suppressed a smile. _Well that was truly a bizarre conversational gambit._

"Ah no," she replied, "the rain was misting down as I was walking this morning. I did not brush it out when I returned, so it has probably curled of its own accord."

"Indeed," he replied, "mine does the same, but always looks more disordered; whereas yours looks..." _adorable_, he thought, but finished with "...curlier."

He then bowed and bid her good day.

For her part, Mrs Collins knew not what to make of Mr Darcy. Colonel Fitzwilliam's occasionally laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would liked to have believed this change the effect of love, and the object of that love her friend Lizzy, she set herself seriously to work to find it out. She watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there was much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind.

From her observations Charlotte became convinced that Mr Darcy was partial to Lizzy, and one day suggested the possibility to her.

"Lizzy I often find Mr Darcy staring at you. I believe he is admiring you."

"Don't be ridiculous Charlotte," she laughed. "Mr Darcy would be constantly surrounded by beauties at ton parties. I'm sure I couldn't hold a candle to them."

"Lizzy I sometimes think you live in your sister's shadow: you sadly underestimate your own beauty, You may not have Jane's guinea gold hair, which I admit is the fashion, but your dark locks are just as beautiful, and you have far more countenance and esprit."

"Charlotte you are embarrassing me. If that were true my dance card would always be full like Jane's, but no, I'm afraid Mr Darcy had the right of it after all, even if it was cruel of him to say it publicly: I am tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt him."

Charlotte merely shook her head.


	26. Chapter 26

Several days passed and Lizzy continued with her morning rambles. Her favourite walk, and where she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine's curiosity.

More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought, and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third encounter that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her pleasure in the theatre, whether she had any favourite flower, and her opinion of Mr and Mrs Collins's happiness.

She was engaged one day as she walked, in perusing Jane's last letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr Darcy, she saw on looking up that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Putting away the letter immediately and forcing a smile, she said:

"I did not know before that you ever walked this way."

"I have been making the tour of the park," he replied, "as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?"

"No, I should have turned in a moment."

And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage together.

"Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?" said she.

"Yes—if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases."

"And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr Darcy."

"He likes to have his own way very well," replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. "But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence."

"In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of either."

The colonel laughed, "Touché!"

"I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her."

"No," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "that is an advantage which he must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy."

"Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way."

As she spoke she observed him looking at her earnestly; and the manner in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth. She thought it best to change the subject.

"So you and Mr Darcy spent some time together in your youth?"

"We grew up like brothers at Pemberley. My family seat is not nine miles away, so we saw each other often as youngsters. I was sent to live there permanently when I was ten. Mrs Reynolds says we have been as thick as thieves ever since."

"Mrs Reynolds?"

"The housekeeper. An old family retainer at Pemberley."

"So is your family seat short of rooms?" she grinned.

"No," he laughed, "although I suppose it has never been big enough for my brother and I. He is the Viscount Stanley, you know. We fought rather a lot, which I suppose was one consideration in sending me away. But Darcy's parents died when he was eight and I was sent to keep him company, otherwise he would have been knocking about all alone in that great big house: well if you don't count all the servants and his governess."

"And where was his sister?"

"Well, she was just a new born babe. In fact, they did not think she would survive. She spent the first three years of her life in London being tended by nurses and a physician."

"That is very sad that he lost his parents so early. Was it an epidemic?"

"No, no, a carriage accident. Darcy was involved too, but miraculously escaped injury. He was in fact the only soul that survived, though he almost died from the chill. They found him kneeling in the snow holding his mothers hand."

Elizabeth felt a wave of sympathy towards that enigmatic man, and briefly wondered how such a tragic event might have influenced his character; but the colonel's story also reminded her of George Wickham, and she sought to change the subject before her mind was overwhelmed by such melancholy thoughts.

"I know someone else who grew up at Pemberley."

"Oh?" said the colonel, mildly interested.

"His name is George Wickham."

She watched in amazement as the Colonel's face darkened and his jaw clenched.

"And where did you meet him?" he said, all humour having left his voice.

"He joined the militia that is currently stationed at Meryton in Hertfordshire."

"Really?" said the colonel unconsciously grinding his teeth.

"He said he grew up with Darcy, that they played and were tutored together as children."

"That is true, George Wickham was my uncle's godson. His father was Pemberley's steward up until his death. He predeceased my uncle by three years. George Darcy was excessively fond of George Wickham, to the extent that he treated him like a second son."

"That was very generous of him."

"Too generous. I never liked George. He reminds me of my brother: a golden boy. George always seemed to say and do exactly the right thing to please Uncle George; but he has a black heart, and has betrayed his godfather's trust most grievously."

Coming from the amiable colonel these were harsh words indeed.

"Mr Wickham claimed that Mr Darcy had denied him a living that he had been promised, and banished him from Pemberley."

"What?!" barked the Colonel. "That grub! The living would have been given to him, had he wanted it; but he did not! Instead, he asked for cash _in_ _lieu_ so that he could study the law. Against my advice, Darcy gave him a lump sum of £3000, and he ran through it like water runs through your hands."

"Such a sum! What could he do with the half of it?"

"Gambling for one thing!" spat the colonel.

"Oh!" said Elizabeth. She would not have guessed it. Lieutenant Wickham had never sat down at the card tables at social functions, always devoting himself to the entertainment of the ladies. "And what of his claim of banishment after your uncle's death?"

"Rubbish," said the colonel. "He was sent to Harrow. Uncle Darcy had specified he should have a gentleman's education and he got it, but my father didn't like him being tutored with Darcy as if he were family."

_Well, that seemed to blow Mr Wickham's story out of the water,_ thought Elizabeth.

"I beg your pardon for bringing up an unpleasant subject, Colonel" said Elizabeth, "but Mr Wickham has been quite vocal in his criticism of Mr Darcy in Hertfordshire. My friend Charlotte disbelieved his claims and distrusted his manner, and it looks like I should have given her opinion more credence."

"Please forgive me also, Miss Bennet, for getting so irate, but that fellow really does make my blood boil. There is more to it than I can discuss, but George Wickham is a blackguard."

"I must admit that I did try to question Mr Darcy about the validity of Mr Wickham's claims, but he refused to talk of it."

"I am afraid he has been deeply affected by it all. They were brought up like brothers after Mr Wickham's death, and he feels George Wickham's betrayal most deeply. Mind you, even as a child, I believe George Wickham acted with perfidy. He always shifted the blame for any little thing on to Darcy, from spilling his tea to breaking a window. Darcy was two years younger than George and I, and he just accepted it as the status quo, but I was definitely glad to see Wickham sent off to Harrow. Else I would have been in trouble for fighting with _him_.

They had by now reached the gates of the Parsonage and the colonel, keen to change the subject, reached down to pick a dandelion that had gone to seed.

"What shall we wish for Miss Bennet?" he asked playfully. Then, before she could answer, he closed his eyes and blew.

"Mr Collins will have your skin for that!" she replied.

They both laughed.

Upon opening the front door, Elizabeth caught Charlotte stuffing an apron into a cupboard. Her colour was heightened.

They took tea with the colonel, whereupon he extended his aunt's invitation for dinner to Mrs Collins, then made his bow and was off.

"Lizzy, thank God you've come back!" said Charlotte as the door clicked shut. "I was at my wits end when you walked in. I pulled the carpet out of the dining parlour to beat it, but we are not strong enough to lay it over the clothes line. Can you help?"

'We' turned out to be Charlotte, Mariah and the maid. Lizzy donned the apron Charlotte handed her. Mariah turned out to be completely useless, having obviously never lifted a heavy object in her life. However, after much huffing, they managed to get the rug over the line, and the maid set about beating it. As she was only a novice at rug beating, each whack only extracted a small puff of dust.

"Here," said Charlotte, pulling her frilly cap down to cover as much of her hair as possible and requesting the rug beater. "Let me try."

She swung the beater with much more force, and large clouds of dust billowed from the rug. But not being used to such exercise, after ten strokes she needed to regain her breath.

Lizzy stepped into the breech. "May I?"

Tying her lace fichu about her hair, she laid into the rug with vigour and after several dozen strokes, they all agreed there was not much more dust to be had from it.

After carrying the rug back inside and arranging the furniture on top of it, they were so exhausted, that they all sat down upon the rug and laughed at their adventure.

After lunch, the ladies retired to their rooms to recruit their strength for the evening at Rosings,

Lizzy had intended to sleep, but although her body was tired, thoughts of her conversation with the colonel came crowding in. She tried to think of all her interactions with Mr Darcy in the light of his tragic childhood. Clearly he had been close to his mother. How strange to think of growing up in a house where the only adults were servants, or so it seemed from the colonel's story. But his aunt and uncle were only nine miles away. How strange that they had not just taken him in until he was older. But he was the heir... and his own house might have the comfort of familiarity... But how lonely he must have been! She tried to imagine life with her parents and sisters and felt very cold inside. She supposed in an equivalent situation, she would have gone to live with her Aunt Gardiner or her Aunt Phillips. Mr Collins would have already inherited Longbourn.

These maudlin thoughts, along with her physical exhaustion, laid her low; and when Charlotte came to help her dress, she expressed a wish to be excused for dinner. She did not think she was up to another evening of Lady Catherine in her current mood.

After the Collins and Mariah had walked out, she crept down to the quiet of Charlotte's parlour to write a letter to Jane. The maid, being not needed for the evening meal, had already gone home to the village.

Around an hour later, she was puzzled when she heard the bell, and completely astonished when Mr Darcy walked in holding a single coral rose, which he offered to her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "such a beautiful colour! I have never seen one like it."

"Miss Bennet, there is something I must tell you."

Upon noting the strange tension in his voice, she looked up at him. His eyes seemed to burn.

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Before she knew what had happened, she was in his arms. She froze as he leant down and began to kiss her tenderly. He was gratified to feel her almost melt in his arms, and as he released her lips briefly to take a breath, she sighed into his mouth. Overcome with lust at this gratifying reaction, he pulled her tightly to him. He felt her briefly struggle; but he held her fast and continued to kiss her; then she joined him in the kiss, as her carnality stirred within her. He felt a surge of joy, triumph.

He released her lips and nuzzled her ear before whispering, "Your lips are like cherries, and taste as sweet."

He then rested his forehead against her own.

"Your family's situation is not good: should you father be struck down by some illness, you would be in dire straits; and I cannot bear the thought of it. I promise to look after your mother and sisters whenever that should occur, if you will but give me your love now."

He ran his hand along her arm from her shoulder to her elbow before declaring, "You inhabit my dreams. I cannot live without you. Please relieve my suffering and consent to be my mistress."

She sat down promptly, as if winded, and burst out crying. Darcy was aghast and confused. _Did women really cry of happiness, or was she truly upset? Perhaps mentioning her father's likely demise had overset her?_

Elizabeth tried to cap her overflowing emotions. _Had she misunderstood him? Surely he was asking her to be Mistress of Pemberley, not his mistress? Surely she must have misconstrued what he had said? No gentleman would ask such a thing!_

Seeing she had dried her eyes, Darcy got down on one knee. "I'll set you up in your own townhouse. You'll have boxes at the opera and the theatre, your own carriage...I will be a devoted protector. You will be the most beloved mistress in all London."

Elizabeth was now sure her worst fears were true, and her ire rose. Standing she confronted him.

"Sir, are you asking me to live in sin with you?" she yelled. She cast her eyes about wildly, then seeing the carpet beater leant against the door, she picked it up and laid into him. "You arrogant, _whack_, idle, _whack_, good-for-nothing rake!"

He scrambled to his feet, ducked, and retreated to the hallway; but she followed him, and continued to rain blows upon him with a vigour that bespoke her fitness. Escaping into the evening air, Mr Darcy could only be glad that she was armed with a blunt instrument, else he might be bleeding from several gaping wounds.

Leaping the front gate in his haste to get away, he set off across the park, As he ran, it started to rain and then pour, as if the fates were cooling his ardour.


	27. Chapter 27

**Ok, so the cat's now out of the bag: it's a Hunsford fork. Certainly thought you knew what I was up to LotsofLaundry. Thanks for all your supportive reviews, I was afraid I might end up getting hate mail like after chapter 21. Let's hope I can pull off the rest of it, since I can't lean on dear JA quite so much.**

After running hell for leather for several hundred yards through Rosings park, Darcy slowed to a lope and then a walk. There was no point in hurrying: he was wet through, and the rain pouring over his face felt right anyway: perfectly summed up his feelings.

His lip was swollen and stinging, perhaps it was bleeding. It was impossible to tell in the rain. She'd managed to flick his face with that bamboo fan as she'd been raining blows on his head and back. It hadn't occurred to him to strike back at her, but he was relieved he had not done so out of instinct. He knew he justly deserved a good thrashing. He'd never received one before in his life, but the earl had constantly dished them out to Richard.

He realised he probably looked a fright. He considered the problem of getting back into the house. He'd gone out via the servants hall, but he hesitated to go back in that way because of his wild appearance. Still, he didn't want his aunt to know he had been out, as he'd pled a migraine to be excused from dinner. In the end he took off his cravat and made a show of wiping the rain off his face with it as he walked in, looking neither left or right. Once he reached the corridor, he looked down at the material. There was no blood, so she probably had just given him a fat lip.

He reached his room. Slamming the door, it occurred to him to check his face, but he couldn't bear to look at himself in the mirror. She was right. He was no better than Wickham, trying to seduce a virtuous woman. He had tried to seduce her with his money instead of his charm. Charm? He had none! He suddenly felt deeply ashamed. _What was I thinking? _There were only two righteous ways: marry her or leave her alone.

* * *

><p>Surreptitiously watching for his cousin in the failing light, Richard saw him walking towards the manor in the rain. Darcy had asked Richard to cover for him when the Hunsford party appeared. Richard had noticed immediately that Miss Bennet was not among them, but he had assumed that Darcy was just being antisocial. It was not until halfway through the soup course that he had connected the two events. He excused himself briefly between the courses to check his hunch. Sure enough, Darcy was missing from his room.<p>

The evening had been damned flat without Miss Bennet, and Darcy's absence had made it a further trial. At least they could trade glances when Aunt Catherine said something particularly ridiculous. After the carriage had been called for, he had made his goodbyes and excused himself, ostensibly to check on Darcy.

Arriving at Darcy's bedroom door, he found it locked and banged on it.

"Darce? Are you alright?"

"Go away, Fitz," came a small voice.

"Open the door, Wills," he yelled.

"I am fine. Go away!" Darcy roared back.

There was a pause, then with two great shudders the door gave way.

"Fitz, what the hell are you doing! You've broken Aunt Catherine's door!"

"Bugger Aunt Catherine's door. What is the matter?"

"Please Fitz, leave me alone. I need to be alone."

"Darcy are you going to tell me what's wrong or do I have to shake it out of you?"

"I have done something terrible Fitz."

"You have murdered Mr Collins?" said Fitz attempting leavening humour.

Darcy ignored this. "Now my door is broken."

"Oh! so now it's _your_ door."

"How are you going to explain that to Aunt Catherine?"

"I don't intend to explain it at all. Tell her I was drunk. Better still, tell her _you_ were drunk. Then she might give up this ridiculous notion of you marrying Anne."

"Nothing short of my being committed to Bedlam will discourage her from that. No, that would play right into her hands: she'd get me up the aisle and have power of attorney through Anne."

"But we digress..." returned the colonel doggedly as he moved closer to Darcy, who was still sitting in his wet clothes, staring into the fire. "You went to visit Miss Bennet..."

There was a silence, then in a small voice Darcy replied "I asked her to be my mistress..."

"What?!" yelped Richard. "What did she say?"

"She hit me with something, several times."

"Darce, I'm not surprised. I never would have guessed it of you. I knew you liked her, but dammit, she's a gentleman's daughter, not a bit of muslin."

"I know, Fitz. I know. It's just... I love her, but I can't marry her."

"Why not?"

"Richard you said yourself that you'd marry her if she weren't so badly off..."

"Darce, I just don't feel I could offer a lady like that a respectable living. Once this war is over, I'll be a half-pay officer living in a cottage by the sea, unless one of my aunts decides to leave me something. But you, you've got money to burn! So what if she's got next to no dowry!"

"It's not just the dowry. She has no connections. You know your father and Aunt Catherine will object."

"And what do you care for connections? Are you running for parliament? You're independently wealthy. You don't have to kowtow to anyone!"

There was a silence.

"I've just spent several months steering Bingley away from her sister!"

"I don't understand why you put your oar in there. He's just as free to pick and choose as you are. If she's as lovely as Miss Elizabeth, I'd call him a lucky man!"

"But if he marries her, it will significantly lower his sister's chance of an eligible match! Indeed, I would be jeopardising Georgiana's chances by offering for Miss Elizabeth."

"Ah, do I detect the influence of that social climber Caroline Bingley? Sure, she might be able to claw her way higher if her brother made a brilliant match, but he strikes me as the sort who'd rather marry for love."

"So what should I do?"

"If you love her, try to fix it!" Richard said as he retreated to the door.

He tried to bash the door back into place, and then giving up, wrenched it off its hinges and propped it against the wall.

"We'll fix that in the morning," he mumbled.

Turning, he cast a final glance at Darcy, "And Wills..."

"Yes?"

"Get out of those wet clothes."

After Richard left, Darcy pulled off his sodden garments. He'd given his valet the night off, hoping he would be able to stay at the Parsonage till late. Finn was probably playing cards with his groom, but he decided not to disturb him. He had a hell of a time getting his wet boots off. They were probably ruined. He set the wet clothes over the back of a chair and pulled on a night shirt.

Then he sat down to write her a letter.

* * *

><p>After Darcy had left, Lizzy had retreated to her room to cry. So Charlotte was right: he did like her, but not in an appropriate way. Not handsome enough to tempt him! Well, not to marriage anyway! She had another good bawl; then calming, she realised she might need to put things in order before Charlotte returned.<p>

Creeping back downstairs, she found the carpet beater leaning against the front door post, and returned it to its original resting place. Glancing around Charlotte's parlour, she saw the rose on the floor. It looked like it had been crushed by his boot. Picking up the stem and a few detached petals, she took it to the kitchen and dropped it into the pig bucket, raking the vegetable peelings over the top. Then she snuffed the candles and retreated to her room.

She heard the Collins return. But when Charlotte poked her head into the room, she feigned sleep. She slept fitfully that night, and when the sun rose, she was glad to get outside, to escape the scene of her humiliation.

Dressing quickly, she pulled on a cloak and set off for the grove. Walking up and down briskly, she could feel her senses calming as she breathed in the fresh air, redolent with its woodland smells. She had almost achieved a state of internal peace when she perceived Mr Darcy step from between the trees.

She looked around and picked up a stout stick. "Keep your distance sir!"

"I only wish to talk to you Miss Bennet!" he said, advancing more slowly. "I promise you are quite safe!"

"I do not wish to talk to you sir. Stop now."

He stepped closer. "Please Miss Bennet. I am dreadfully sorry. I have written you a letter."

_Did he have a fat lip?_ "I do not want any communication with you."

"I beg you! There is nothing improper in it!"

"It is improper to give me a letter."

"Please," he begged again, "if only for your sister Jane's sake!"

_He was such a rat!_ she thought.

He put the letter down on a log and retreated.

Waiting until he had disappeared back into the trees, she snatched the letter and hid it in her cloak. Then she retreated to the Parsonage: the sanctuary of her hidden grove having been violated. Creeping into the dormant house, she stuffed the offending letter into her bedside drawer, and then throwing her cloak aside, crept back into bed and pulled the covers over her head.

Exhausted from her restless night and tempestuous emotions, she thankfully fell back asleep; and when she awoke again, she could hear the familiar morning sounds of breakfast at the Parsonage. Retrieving the letter from the drawer, she broke the seal and read,

_Dear Miss Bennet,_

_Please accept my abject apologies for what occurred yesterday. My feelings for you are of a long standing nature. Indeed, almost from our first acquaintance at Netherfield after your carriage accident I have felt drawn to you. I have sought to deny these feelings, but they cannot be damped. Your reaction yesterday was completely justified and I can only be ashamed at the inappropriate avenue I have allowed my thoughts to take. I feel honour bound to offer you my hand in marriage. Indeed, I would be humbled if you would forget the actions of a fool and consider my suit. The colonel has agreed to wait on you as an intermediary. Let me know if there is hope._

_FD_

_P.S. I must confess something that has been preying on my mind. On the night of the Netherfield ball, I encountered one of your sisters in a compromising situation with George Wickham. I cannot be sanguine with my reaction, which was to do nothing, but I did not feel we were on sufficient terms of intimacy to intervene. In the light of my own behaviour, it must surely seem hypocritical, but I still feel the need to advise you as a warning, as I do not believe the man has an honourable bone in his body._

_P.P.S. I have another confession to make. It is to my great regret that I interfered in the developing romance between your sister and my friend Charles Bingley. My friend is trying to establish himself as a gentleman, and I believed that he needed to make a strong alliance to cement his place in the world. It is to my shame that I must admit that Charles is not, and has never been, in Vienna. At the time I thought I was acting in his best interests, being convinced not only of your sister's unsuitability, but also of her relative indifference. Alas, I feel I have not been as impartial in the affair as I thought. I beg your forgiveness and pledge to meddle no more._

_P.P.P.S. I pray you will burn this note after receiving it._

_P.P.P.P.S. Really, really sorry._

It was the last piece of information of Mr Bingley that reverberated in Lizzy's head. Not in Vienna! Had she not long suspected his interference in their removal from Hertfordshire to London? But oh, it was far worse! He had conspired to keep them apart when Jane was in London. It was unforgivable!

She was still seething with indignation when there was a knock at her bedroom door. She hastily stuffed the letter under her pillow before the door was opened a crack, and she heard Charlotte's voice.

"Lizzy may I come in?"

She assented, and Charlotte entered the darkened room, noticing the cloak flung on the chair as she did so.

"Lizzy, are you still unwell?" she asked cautiously.

"I've felt better." replied Lizzy truthfully.

"Lizzy, the colonel is downstairs. He wanted to bid you farewell. He and Mr Darcy are to leave Rosings this morning."

"Oh Charlotte, will you make my excuses? I am not fit for company," Lizzy replied.

Charlotte hesitated. This did not seem like her friend at all, but something stopped her from pressing her further.

She returned downstairs and regretfully informed the colonel that Lizzy was indisposed.

The colonel looked very mournful at this, but graciously stood and made his farewells. He expressed the wish that he might in future be able to return and play more tunes on the goat piano; though he knew in his heart that he was unlikely to ever encounter Miss Elizabeth there again, and it would not be the same without her.


	28. Chapter 28

Lizzy did not come down for breakfast and when she also refused lunch, Charlotte became genuinely worried for her. After setting the kitchen to rights after the meal, Charlotte set off to feed the pigs. Tipping the bucket over the fence and setting it down, she leant over to scratch her favourite pig, Cromwell, between the ears as he fed. That was when she saw the unusual colour peeking from under the peelings. She found a stick to investigate.

After advising her husband that Lizzy's malady was likely nothing more than an epidemic cold or the influenza, and thus assuring he kept his distance, Charlotte assembled a tray of food.

Knocking, she entered the room where the curtains, uncharacteristically, were still drawn.

"Lizzy, I've brought you a bite to eat, " said Charlotte, putting the tray on the bedside table. "How are you feeling?"

"Just a bit down in the dumps."

"You haven't been rereading Jane's letters have you?"

Lizzy smiled wanly.

"Please eat something," begged Charlotte.

Lizzy sat up and surveyed the tray disinterestedly, before picking up a roll and pretending to nibble on it. She knew it was going to feel like lead in her stomach. She would throw it out the window later.

Charlotte poured a cup of tea, then said gently, "Did he make you an offer, Lizzy?"

Lizzy looked at her friend in amazement. "How did you know?" she croaked.

"I just fed the pigs."

Turning her back on her friend, Lizzy hunkered down in the bed, still clutching the roll and burst out crying.

"Lizzy, you didn't refuse him did you?"

Lizzy tried to control her sobs. "Charlotte, it is not what you think, he asked me to be his mistress."

"Oh! Oh!" said Charlotte, for once at a loss for what to say. _Who would have thought it of Mr Darcy? He seemed so very prim and proper._

Charlotte climbed onto the bed to hug her friend. "My poor dear!" She said as she rocked her friend in her arms.

In the next room Mariah had frozen near the interconnecting door, knowing she had overheard something she was not meant to hear. When she heard her sister whispering to Lizzy, she crept away as noiselessly as possible, hoping that a floorboard would not creak.

* * *

><p>Darcy had waited impatiently just out of sight of the Parsonage for Colonel Fitzwilliam's return. He didn't hold out much hope. Indeed, in the light of day the revelations he'd made in the postscripts of his letter had probably added insult to injury. But he knew she was a direct person and he'd wanted to make a clean breast of things, to show he was truly contrite. As a youth, he'd always believed that disguise of all sorts was abhorrent. Somehow he had drifted away from his core principles...<p>

He saw Richard returning, surveying the grass as he walked, and knew there was no hope.

Once Richard reached him, they continued silently back to Rosings.

"What did she say?" Darcy asked tentatively.

"Wouldn't see me. Mrs Collins said she was indisposed."

Once they reached the house, Darcy gave the order for their departure. An hour later the carriage set off for London. The cousins climbed in and adopted their usual positions in opposite corners of the coach, with Darcy occupying the left of the forward-facing seat.

"Did Aunt notice your lip?" asked Richard as they set off down the drive.

"Of course. I told her I'd caught myself with my riding crop." _There it was again: more disguise. _He imagined a more truthful answer: "_Dear aunt, I was given a deserved thrashing by a righteous woman."_

"Your riding crop!" scoffed Richard. "And what did she say to that?"

"She told me of the proper way to hold a riding crop."

Richard grunted in amusement but couldn't manage a laugh.

As the carriage swayed towards London, the cousins were silent. Darcy stared out the window; and seeing his cousin didn't want to talk, Richard took the opportunity to have a kip: a habit he had developed while on active service in the peninsula.

Darcy thought of his life and all that was wrong with it. He and Richard had argued after breakfast about Madame Amelie's. For Richard, it was just a matter of class: there were some women you could dally with, and others you could not. Darcy thought the problem was not his inability to distinguish these categories, after all, he was sure that Genette was of gentle birth. No, the problem lay with himself, he just should not be using women that way: for his own self-gratification.

The closer he got to London, the more resolved he became. When Richards eyelids fluttered open an hour later, he motioned for him to come sit beside him on the forward-facing seat. Then he told him his plans.

The next day he arrived at Madame Amelie's in the afternoon and spent half an hour in her office before heading upstairs.

He found Sarah reading to Genette in the parlour again. He had discovered during his recent afternoon visits that Genette was teaching Sarah to read. Sarah had been a milliner's apprentice before joining the brothel. She had only learned her letters at a village school before being indentured.

He signalled to Genette that he wished to join her in her bedroom.

After she closed the door, he sat down on the bed.

"Would you mind pulling my boots off?" he asked.

She complied. He lay down on his back on the bed and indicated she should do the same. Then he grasped her hand as he stared at the ceiling.

"Genette, you told me something once that made me think your father was a clergyman."

She blushed and timidly replied, "It is true."

"Do you ever think that perhaps we should not be doing this?"

Her heart sank, she had been dreading this. _He is engaged_. All the worries that sometimes nagged her, particularly when she woke in the morning, rushed to the fore.

She was not in love with Mr Williams. Truth be told, she was a little afraid of him. He had such hauteur. But he never turned up drunk and was not brutal, or even rough; which was more than could be said for many of the other clientele of the establishment. He had not been passionate in his love making, but he had been considerate; and she had to admit she had enjoyed their encounters in a base sort of way, although she knew it was not heartfelt.

But her dread encompassed more than that: it was something that was not specific to him, but to herself. He had been her first, and thus her only; and while that remained true, she had shielded herself from the grim reality of her situation: that there would be many others. She would likely lose her place on the third floor: she was not as beautiful as other members of the elite. She knew Madame Amelie had recommended her to Mr Williams on the basis of her youth, her gentility and her innocence. He had not seemed to mind her relative inexperience, and between his gentle instructions and Sarah's knowledge, she had managed to please him.

She steeled herself for his next words.

"I have spoken to Madame Amelie about terminating our contract."

Her stomach lurched. _There, he had said it. _In the silence that reigned, she was all too aware of her fast heartbeat, and she forced herself to breathe.

"You said something once that made me think you come from Yorkshire. Do you ever wish you could go back?" he asked.

"I cannot go back," she replied quietly. "I am a fallen woman."

Darcy winced. _He_ had been responsible for her fall. He could reason that if it had not been him, it would have been someone else: but he knew those were the thoughts of a sophist.

"I want to help you. Do you wish to continue here, or do you wish to do something else...?"

_What did she wish?_ She wished she could return to her adolescence: to sew and pick flowers all day. To the time before men took an interest in her: such a stupid, impractical wish.

"I wish I could go back to the country, not to Yorkshire, but anywhere else. To live in a cottage, with chickens and a garden."

"That might be possible, but you would need a companion. Does Sarah or any of the other girls have a similar wish?"

"Not that I know of."

"Is there anyone else you can think of?"

"I often wonder what happened to my governess. She had no relatives and was already fifty when she moved on from my family's home."

"Do you have a forwarding address?"

"Yes, but I do not know if it is current. I stopped writing once I ran away."

His question came too quickly and harboured a note of alarm. "You ran away?"

Genette blushed, realising she had divulged too much.

After gentle prodding, she revealed her history: the fat suitor; the flight on the Mail; her failure to find a respectable post.

Now he _really_ felt like a bounder.

After further silence, he levered himself into a sitting position.

"I'll see what I can do. I'll arrange with madame for you to stay here until I can find a solution, but I won't be visiting you any more."

He got up to pull on his boots and tailcoat.

"Goodbye," he said kissing her hand, and giving her a small smile.

He walked to the door.

"Mr Williams?"

"Yes?"

"Congratulations."

He looked at the floor. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>A trusted footman sent off in plain clothes to Yorkshire arrived back with the required information, and arrangements were made for the ladies to occupy a cottage on a small estate Darcy's father had inherited in Yorkshire. The property itself was leased by a Colonel Brandon, lately of India, who had it on an option to buy. But he was happy to renegotiate the lease to accommodate an old family retainer and her niece, and even happier when he met the niece, a very pretty girl named Ruth.<p> 


	29. Chapter 29

The final week at Hunsford could not go quickly enough for Lizzy. She mostly kept to her room, stealing out at dawn and dusk when few people were about, for short walks. She knew it was not logical, but she was finding it difficult to shake off her shame.

To her husband, Charlotte continued to maintain the fiction of Elizabeth's illness, which was now deemed to be definitely the influenza. Having alerted her friend to Mr Darcy's interest in her, Charlotte felt guilty of somehow encouraging the whole debacle, and vowed to herself never to play matchmaker again.

Lizzy still had no appetite, but ate small amounts from the trays prepared for her to satisfy Charlotte.

The morning of their departure finally arrived. After Mariah returned from the Collins' morning visit to Rosings, where she had bid her Ladyship farewell, Lizzy opened the interconnecting door to Mariah's room so they could assist each other with the final details of packing. She was aghast to find Mariah pulling the clothes from her trunk instead of preparing to close the lid. Upon enquiry, Mariah explained that Lady Catherine gave her directions as to the best method of packing, and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right way, that Mariah thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh.

"Goodness Mariah," exclaimed Elizabeth, "they are _your_ gowns! You may pack them anyway you wish. Lady Catherine will never know."

At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the parcels placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready.

The Collins walked the departing ladies to the front gate and Mr Collins began a long and florid goodbye which ended with -

"Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of thinking," he said, as he held his wife's hand, and caressed her bare arm below the elbow.

"There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us," he continued. "We seem to have been designed for each other," he concluded with a simpering smile.

Elizabeth could see that her friend wished to withdraw her arm. Between improper proposals and repulsive men, Lizzy thought she could live quite happily for the rest of her life as a spinster.

The ladies climbed in, and the chaise was off. Lizzy watched as the grove she had frequented passed and disappeared into the distance. Though the walks she had experienced in Kent were lovely, they were now forever tainted by the most humiliating episode of her life. She hoped that she might never see the place again.

"Good gracious!" cried Mariah, after a few minutes' silence, "it seems but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have happened!"

"A great many indeed," said her companion with a sigh.

"We have dined five times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice! How much I shall have to tell!"

Elizabeth added privately, "And how much I shall have to conceal!"

Their journey was performed without much conversation, or any incident; and within four hours of their leaving Hunsford they reached the outskirts of London, where they were to remain a few days at Mr Gardiner's house. Breaching the city limits, Elizabeth felt strangely liberated from the confined company of Kent, and eagerly looked forward to seeing her sister again.

Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of studying her spirits, amidst the various engagements which the kindness of her aunt had reserved for them. But Jane was to go home with her, and at Longbourn there would be leisure enough for observation.

Elizabeth had determined she would not tell her sister about Mr Darcy's proposal. Aside from the shame of it all, she knew her sister could not believe her. She would think it impossible that a friend of Mr Bingley's would do such a thing; would claim that Lizzy had misinterpreted his words somehow. So that was the big lie. But then there would be the little lie: she would conceal that Mr Bingley had not been in Vienna. _After all, what good could come of her sister knowing of his deceit?_

It was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies set out together from Gracechurch Street for the town of St Albans, in Hertfordshire; and, as they drew near the appointed inn where Mr Bennet's carriage was to meet them, they quickly perceived, thanks to the coachman's punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining-room up stairs. These two girls had been above an hour in the place, happily employed in visiting an opposite milliner, being applied to by various street vendors walking up and down, watching the sentinel on guard, and dressing a salad and cucumber.

After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming, "Is not this nice? Is not this an agreeable surprise?"

"And we mean to treat you all," added Lydia, "but you must lend us the money, for we have just spent ours."

Lizzy now perceived that Lydia was carrying a basket.

"Jane, Lizzy, I have bought the dearest thing!" she said as something fluffy stirred beneath the covers.

"Lyddy you know we are not allowed kittens. Papa says they kill the birds," said Jane, stretching out her hand to pat it nonetheless.

"It is fine, Jane! It is not a kitten but a baby ferret."

"Oh! They are savage things!" cried Jane, hastily retracting her hand.

"No, they aren't!" retorted Lydia. "The vendor says if you cuddle and play with them, they grow up to be very affectionate like kittens! And their fur is longer and softer!"

Lizzy gave the baby ferret a stroke and agreed the fur was very soft. She secretly thought that it would make an _excellent_ muff.

"I'm afraid you cannot keep him Lydia," said Lizzy.

Kitty made a moue, and Lydia whined, "Oooohhh!"

"Now please put him down for a moment as I have something important to say."

She nodded dismissal to the server who was hoping that she had forgotten about him. There was nothing he enjoyed more than girl talk.

After the door was closed behind him she began. "When I was in Kent I met someone who knows Mr Wickham intimately. They warned me that he is not a man to be trusted. He takes advantage of young girls."

Lizzy now had Kitty and Lydia's undivided attention.

"You must be very careful never to be alone with him. I love you both dearly and do not wish to ever see you hurt. So please be careful."

They nodded in unison.

Then Lydia thought of a new pet retention strategy. "Could we not keep him, as a _guard_ ferret?"

"No!" rejoined Lizzy and Jane together.

They then partook of the dressed salad, some ham, and a loaf of bread with fresh churned butter.

After paying their shot, Lizzy became custodian of the basket and instructed Lydia to point out the vendor.

Approaching this fellow, she held out the basket. "Sir, I must ask you to take this back!"

"Sorry ma'am, all sales is final. That is a werry good ferret. You won't be disappointed."

After Lizzy explained she was not asking for a refund, the vendor took the basket with a shrug. After all, he did not often get the chance to sell the same ferret twice.

The carriage was ordered; and after some contrivance, the whole party, with all their boxes, work-bags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of Kitty's and Lydia's purchases, were seated in it.

"It's not fair!" said Lydia, as they set off towards Longbourn. "I should have bought that ugly bonnet after all."


	30. Chapter 30

Lizzy felt a lump form in her throat as Longbourn came into view. The urge to scurry straight to her bedroom and hide like a whipped dog was strong, but she knew it would be several hours before she could indulge in that comfort.

Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs Bennet rejoiced to see Jane in undiminished beauty; and more than once during dinner did Mr Bennet say voluntarily to Elizabeth:

"I am glad you are come back, Lizzy."

Their party in the dining-room was large, for almost all the Lucases came to meet Maria and hear the news; and various were the subjects that occupied them: Lady Lucas was inquiring of Maria, after the welfare of her eldest daughter, and Mariah in turn told of the wayward pigs and the carpet beating. Mr Bennet looked enquiringly at Lizzy throughout these stories expecting her to add her mite, but she kept her head down and moved the vegetables about her plate. Mrs Bennet was engaged collecting an account of the present fashions from Jane, when Lydia broke in -

"It will not much signify what one wears this summer, after the militia have left Meryton, and they are going in a fortnight."

"They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want papa to take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme; and I dare say would hardly cost anything at all. Mamma would like to go too of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall have!"

"Yes," thought Elizabeth, "that would be a delightful scheme indeed, and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven! Brighton, and a whole campful of soldiers, to us, who have been overset already by one poor regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton!"

Nonetheless, when she finally did reach her bedroom she found the company of her family had done her much good. She was able to put her head on the pillow in a serene frame of mind, convincing herself that Mr Darcy would be soon forgotten.

* * *

><p>She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the real state of her sister's spirits. Jane was not happy. She still cherished a very tender affection for Bingley. Having never even fancied herself in love before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and, from her age and disposition, greater steadiness than most first attachments often boast; and so fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to every other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of those regrets which must have been injurious to her own health and their tranquillity.<p>

"Well, Lizzy," said Mrs Bennet one day, "what is your opinion now of this sad business of Jane's? For my part, I am determined never to speak of it again to anybody. I wrote my sister Phillips so the other day. But I cannot find out that Jane saw anything of him in London. Well, he is a very undeserving young man—and I do not suppose there's the least chance in the world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have inquired of everybody, too, who is likely to know."

"I do not believe he will ever live at Netherfield any more."

"Oh well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come. Though I shall always say he used my daughter extremely ill; and if I was her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sure Jane will die of a broken heart; and then he will be sorry for what he has done."

But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such expectation, she made no answer.

"Well, Lizzy," continued her mother, soon afterwards, "and so the Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope it will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte is an excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her mother, she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in their housekeeping, I dare say."

"No, nothing at all."

"A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. they will take care not to outrun their income. They will never be distressed for money. Well, much good may it do them! And so, I suppose, they often talk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon it as quite their own, I dare say whenever that happens.

"It was a subject which they could not mention before me."

"No; it would have been strange if they had; but I make no doubt they often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. I should be ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me."

* * *

><p>A welcome distraction came in the form of Mr Jones who arrived on the doorstep several days later with a bunch of flowers, ostensibly for Mrs Bennet, who had left her customary piece of plum pudding for him on Boxing Day. Lydia excitedly dragged him out to the garden to show him the snake hole she had discovered and they were able to determine that several juveniles lay within.<p>

Lizzy had followed them outside allowing Mr Jones to get to the real object of his visit.

"We have missed you greatly at the infirmary, Miss Elizabeth," he said as they walked through the rose garden. "There is not a day that goes by when Dr Gregory does not make some comment regretting your absence: whether it is a problem with the ledgers, or the lack of properly cleaned equipment."

"How goes the hospital?" Lizzy enquired politely.

"It has been operating for several weeks now. Dr Gregory is run off his feet, keeping it all going. He was married a fortnight ago at Meryton, though I'm sure his wife hardly sees him, he is so busy."

"Yes, he is always very busy," she replied noncommittally.

"I find that, I too, am rather stretched. The demands for surgery have increased greatly. If I had known that a shop front would have made such a difference, I would have set one up years ago; but I do not have such a head for business as Dr Gregory. I can only be glad that he decided to come into the district and chose to approach me."

She nodded her agreement.

"I've greatly missed your help in compounding medicines, and was hoping I might be able to request your assistance again."

"Is there not a problem with me returning to the infirmary?"

Mr Jones coughed uncomfortably "Well, yes, there is still that problem, but I was hoping I might be able to bring the ingredients here and pick the medicines up later in the day."

"Well, I must admit, I have been wondering what to do with my time," replied Lizzy, "especially now Charlotte is gone."

"Longbourn does have an added advantage for my purposes, you know. Can you guess what it is?"

Lizzy did not need to think too hard, "The still room?"

"Indeed, you know it is superior to the meagre space I have in my own house."

"But not in such good order," she replied.

They went off to the still room to investigate. Lizzy had appropriated a small part of it for her own preparations, but the major part of the apparatus had not been used since her grandmother's time. She, apparently, had been a great maker of ale, ginger beer, medicines and other useful things for the household. Most of these things were now simply purchased.

Mr Jones advised her of the most useful things to set up first and promised to return on the morrow with ingredients and glassware. After his departure, Elizabeth enlisted Jane's help, and together they began to put things in order.

* * *

><p>After attending to the less urgent matters of business which had built up in London during his sojourn at Rosings, Darcy wrote to his sister that he would be returning to Pemberley. Thus a fortnight after his departure from Kent, his carriage was laden with his valet and his effects, and he mounted his horse and set out for Derbyshire. Behind him, a footman took the knocker off the door of the townhouse.<p>

Georgie was overjoyed to see him when he finally arrived at the estate, running down the front steps to throw herself into his arms. As much as she liked her Aunt Evelina, Matlock was not Pemberley. She was glad to be home, and even gladder to have the company of her brother who always seemed to fill up the house with his presence.

However, it did not take her long to tell that something was amiss. He was not his confident and imperturbable self. He might be able to fool Mrs Reynolds and the servants with his usual commands and directives, but she could tell they all sounded a little hollow. Still nursing a wounded heart herself, she thought she detected a fellow sufferer. So one day as they sat together near the lake at sunset she found the courage to ask.

"Fitzwilliam, did you meet someone?"

"Yes, my dear," he said drawing her closer and kissing the top of her head. "I met someone, and just like you, I discovered them to be someone I cannot have, so I must learn to live without her."

"Is she inappropriate?" asked Georgie, and then in a whisper, "like George?"

He dwelt for a moment on how his answer to her question had changed so radically over the last month before replying, "No, my dear, just...unattainable."

Georgiana was puzzled by this, thinking his love might be a Duke's daughter, or a member of the royal family.

"Did you ask her to marry you?"

He was not quite sure how to answer this question to his little sister without lying. So he said simply, "She refused."


	31. Chapter 31

Kitty and Lydia continued to make the most of the short time the militia had left in Meryton. Lydia was now fast friends with Mrs Forster and would stay with her when Kitty expressed a wish to go off to see Mariah Lucas. She had an ulterior motive in wanting to see more of Mr Wickham. Her curiosity regarding their tryst at the Netherfield ball had increased her wish to be once more alone with him, but opportunities had been few: he was involved more often with errands for Colonel Forster. These extra duties however did not seem to involve the other officers, who still had plenty of time for leisure when they were not employed in drills.

Arriving home in time for afternoon tea one day, she related the following tale which curled the toes of her elder sisters -

"We dressed up Chamberlayne in woman's clothes on purpose to pass for a lady, only think what fun! Not a soul knew of it, but Colonel and Mrs Forster, and Kitty and me, except for Mrs Long, for we were forced to borrow one of her gowns; and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny, and Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in, they did not know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and so did Mrs Forster. I thought I should have died. And that made the men suspect something, and then they soon found out what was the matter. Denny and Pratt thought it was hilarious but Wickham didn't think it was funny at all. He doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humour."

Lizzy was glad to see that Lydia had begun to see flaws in Mr Wickham's character: she had been worried that her advice had not been heeded; but perhaps Lydia was just taking her time to digest it.

The following day Kitty and Lydia were employed in looking at new ribbons in the haberdasher's window when Mariah Lucas hurried up to them.

"Lydia, Kitty you cannot imagine what has happened! Oh such a scandal! Mary King has been caught with an officer in a very compromising situation! She is ruined for sure! Her uncle has sent her to Yorkshire to try to avoid the gossip!"

Kitty burst into a coughing fit.

Along the street Mrs Lucas summoned Mariah who left with a little chirp of excitement.

Looking about, Lydia spotted Denny and Sanderson returning from the parade ground and hastened to meet them.

"Where is Wickham, Denny?" asked Lydia nonchalantly.

Denny blushed deeply. "He's ridden to London with a communique."

"Mariah Lucas has just told me the most diverting tale about Mary King. It was him, wasn't it?"

Both of the young officers started and looked at each other, before Denny replied:

"Colonel Forster has sworn us to secrecy. Sanderson and I will be boiled in oil if it gets out."

Secretly thinking these two wouldn't last long under interrogation by French agents, Lydia nodded her understanding. She was suddenly glad she had refused to nip into the library with Lieutenant Wickham at the Netherfield ball.

"What a rat!" she spat.

Denny looked at his highly polished boots.

"I fear he is not quite the thing, Miss Lydia."

He would have liked to have said more: perhaps apologise for the horrid things Wickham had said about her that had made his ears burn. He wished now he had told Wickham to shut his filthy mouth. Miss Lydia was very beautiful, and spirited too. Just the wife a soldier could take on a campaign.

"He also owes the other officers quite a bit in vowels and notes of hand," he offered instead.

"And," said Sanderson who had finally found his voice, "he sleeps buff!" As if this were the crowning iniquity.

Kitty blushed. Lydia guffawed.

A week later, when Wickham returned from London, Lydia had planned her revenge.

Kitty and Lydia had invited themselves to a sleepover at the Lucas's. They spent the first half of the evening in their night gowns telling ghost stories in Mariah's room by the light of a single candle. Then, pulling on their day gowns, Lydia produced a large pickling jar from her carpet bag and wrapped it in a shawl. After stuffing their carpet bags and various other objects under the blankets as a decoy, Kitty and Lydia crept downstairs whereupon Mariah let them out the back door.

Arriving at Mrs Long's, Denny answered the back door to their secret knock.

"Has he come in yet?" asked Lydia.

"No, he always arrives back just before curfew," replied Denny.

They tiptoed upstairs where Lydia produced the jar from under her shawl.

"What the hell is that?" said Denny paling, then clapped his hand over his mouth.

Lydia seemed unperturbed by his bad language. "It's a Kleppian snake, Mr Jones told me. It's only a baby one. Mr Jones has its mother pickled in a jar. She was _much_ bigger."

"Are they poisonous?" quaked Denny.

"No, but don't tell him that."

She sat down at the secretaire in the hall which the officers used for their correspondence, and quickly penned a note. She frowned as she reread it. It was a little too intellectual, like something Lizzy would write. She then added a postscript that she believed captured her own feelings a little better. She giggled with girlish mirth as she sealed the folded sheet.

"Now open the door so I can put it in."

"Wait," said Denny warming to the farce. "I want to stay here so I can see the look on his face.

"Me too," added Sanderson.

After Lydia had arranged Wickham's bed, the ladies were excluded and they ran around to the officer's parlour, which was shrouded in darkness, to seat themselves next to the adjoining wall to listen.

Taking his jacket off quickly, Denny jumped between the covers of his own bed, still wearing his breeches, and grabbing the book he'd left on the nightstand, buried his nose in it...

Sanderson followed suit, but hard pressed for reading material, he took the volume of poetry from Wickham's nightstand. He'd never seen Wickham read it anyway. Like everything else about the man, it was all for show...

Soon after, they heard Wickham's fleet feet on the stairs. He entered the room and started stripping down to his birthday suit. Having achieved this state, he flexed his muscles a little for the benefit of the adoring teenagers in the room, threw back the covers, and with an athletic skip, launched himself into the middle of the bed. He only just glimpsed movement beneath him in his peripheral vision before Denny blew out his candle and Sanderson quickly followed suit.

Then came a girlie scream, a commotion, an agonised yelp and Wickham's cry: "light the candle! light the candle! something has bit me!"

Denny hastened to obey, stifling his smirk as he did so.

Wickham had jumped from the bed and was staring at the disturbed covers.

"Perhaps it was a mouse?" offered Denny, rising to stand on his mattress. "you haven't been eating in bed again have you?"

Wickham approached the sheets and flicked them back cautiously, revealing the snake.

Another soprano shriek issued from his lips.

Next door Kitty and Lydia stifled their laughter and drummed their heels on the floor.

The noise distracted Wickham who scowled at the intervening wall.

"What is going on here?"

It was at this point that he discovered the note, that had fluttered to the floor when he had disturbed the sheets. Keeping one eye on the snake, he bent to pick it up.

_Dear Wickie_

_Hope you liked my little surprise. It was my pleasure to introduce two fellow creatures, both in nature and form._

_LB_

_P.S. Hope my snake bit yours._


	32. Chapter 32

As Lydia had sworn Denny and Sanderson to secrecy, the tale of Wickham's humiliation never reached Longbourn before the militia's departure, though it became legend once they were encamped in Brighton with the other regiments. The tale spread was of a jilted country miss who had introduced a serpent into the bed of the cad who had dallied with her. Wickham continually found himself laughed at behind his back, and eventually transferred to a regiment bound for New South Wales to escape the general hilarity.

While Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham's departure she found little other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. The parties attended by the sisters were less varied than before, and at home Elizabeth had to deal with an unhappy mother and four less than chirpy sisters, although this was _status quo_ for Mary. On the bright side, Lydia seemed strangely reconciled to their father's determination that she would not go to Brighton, regardless of any invitation from Mrs Forster.

Before she had departed from London, Lizzy had the unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in a tour of pleasure, which they proposed taking in the summer. Mr Bennet had not been happy when she had relayed this information: he had been forced to do the estate's ledgers during her absence in Kent; and he joked about refusing his permission for another jaunt. Thus, in preparation for her summer tour, she had decided to teach Mary to do this work. This had the happy side effect of reducing Mary's proselytising, since she had less time to dwell on Fordyce's sermons.

Jane made a determined effort to distract herself from thoughts of Mr Bingley by employing the still room to make toilette waters. She had successfully distilled lavender and rose, and had applied to her Aunt Gardiner for recipes for more complex combinations, which her aunt dutifully copied from originals in the reading rooms of the British museum.

Kitty also became interested in the still room, with the principal aim of brewing ginger beer. Mr Bennet was not happy about this project, demanding all the product be stored in an outbuilding, as he did not want the serenity of his library disturbed by the sounds of any exploding bottles.

For her part, Lizzy tried to prepare enough of Mr Jones' most common prescriptions to tide him over 'til she could return.

Lizzy's tour to the Lakes was now the object of her happiest thoughts; it was her best consolation for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the scheme, every part of it would have been perfect; but Jane had volunteered to look after the Gardiner children during the tour as a thank you for her long stay after Christmas.

The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast approaching, and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter arrived from Mrs Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and curtailed its extent. Mr Gardiner would be prevented by business from setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must be in London again within a month, and as that left too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour, and, according to the present plan, were to go no farther northwards than Derbyshire. In that county there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three weeks; and to Mrs Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, Dovedale, or the Peak.

Her aunt knew Elizabeth had set her heart on seeing the Lakes; and as a concession to Elizabeth's inevitable disappointment, she suggested Jane might accompany them after all, if the younger sisters were willing to take on the duties of childminding. This Lydia and Kitty happily agreed to do.

The mention of Derbyshire brought many disquieting thoughts crowding into Lizzy's mind. It was impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its owner. "But surely," said she, "I may enter his county with impunity, and rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving me.

* * *

><p>During his long rustication in Derbyshire Mr Darcy had plenty of time to rue his actions at Hunsford. Blinded by lust, he had thought of nothing beyond getting Elizabeth into his bed. Well, he had thought of taking her to the theatre, and then taking her to his bed; or to the opera, and then taking her to bed; or for a ride in his carriage, and then dallying with her in that, just for variation.<p>

But his retreat to his childhood home, had illustrated the error of his thinking. It occurred to him that there was much more to his attraction to Miss Elizabeth than his overwhelming desire to have conjugal relations with her. He now began to comprehend that she was exactly the woman who, in disposition and talents, would most suit him. Her understanding and temper, though unlike his own, would have answered all his wishes. It was an union that must have been to the advantage of both; by her ease and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his better education and knowledge of the world, she might slake her thirst for information.

This awareness of her fitness was borne to him every day as he went about his business. When he threw his dog a stick, he imagined she would be there gently ribbing him when Argos brought back a rabbit instead. When he saw the chess board laid out in the library, he replayed their game at Netherfield, during which he said many witty things before letting her win. When he sat down to read, he imagined her sitting companionably beside him, as she had done at Netherfield, though she always read a book of poetry, not one on bloodletting. When his sister sang off key in Italian he imagined it was Miss Elizabeth's sweet voice instead. Usually she swanned about the halls of Pemberley in a crimson ball gown, but sometimes he encountered her in other things, mostly frilly negligees. Oh well, he couldn't have clean thoughts all the time.

Aside from these congenial vignettes of cohabitation, he worried a little about her ubiquitous presence. Especially when he caught himself saying something out loud to her, or worse, Georgiana did.

But the great tragedy was that he could see no way across the chasm he'd created between them: the insult was too great. If he ever met her again he was not sure he would even be able to meet her eye.

* * *

><p>At length Mr and Mrs Gardiner, with their four children: two girls of six and eight years old, and two younger boys, arrived at Longbourn.<p>

The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off the next morning with Elizabeth and Jane in pursuit of novelty and amusement.

It is not the object of this work to give a description of Derbyshire, nor of any of the remarkable places through which their route lay; Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, etc. are sufficiently known. A small part of Derbyshire is all the present concern. To the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs Gardiner's former residence, and where she had lately learned some acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps, after having seen all the principal wonders of the country; and within five miles of Lambton, Elizabeth found from her aunt that Pemberley was situated. It was not in their direct road, nor more than a mile or two out of it. In talking over their route the evening before, Mrs Gardiner expressed an inclination to see the place again. Mr Gardiner and Jane declared their willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her approbation.

"My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so much?" said her aunt; "a place, too, with which so many of your acquaintances are connected."

Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at Pemberley, and was obliged to express a disinclination for seeing it. She must own that she was tired of seeing great houses; after going over so many, she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.

Mrs Gardiner tried to coax her to acquiesce. "If it were merely a fine house richly furnished," said she, "I should not care about it myself; but the grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the country."

Elizabeth said no more—but her mind was in turmoil. The possibility of meeting Mr Darcy, while viewing the place, instantly occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea, and thought it would be better to speak openly to her aunt than to run such a risk. But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved that it could be the last resource, if her private inquiries to the absence of the family were unfavourably answered.

Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid whether Pemberley was not a very fine place? what was the name of its proprietor? and, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for the summer? She could not have applied to a more informed source. The girl's sister worked as a maid at Pemberley. The family were temporarily away: Mr Darcy had gone to Yorkshire to finalise the sale of a property, and his sister to visit her aunt at Matlock.

Her alarms now being removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of curiosity to see the house herself; and when the subject was revived the next morning, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike to the scheme. To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.


	33. Chapter 33

Darcy's trip to Yorkshire, which he had expected to take a fortnight, had been concluded more speedily than he had envisaged. Colonel Brandon had been all acquiescence, and in the end there had been no need to parcel off the land surrounding the cottage, the Colonel was happy for Ruth and her 'aunt' to continue living there for a peppercorn rent. He knew few people in the vicinity; and was delighted to have the company of two genteel ladies at dinner occasionally.

Thus Darcy sent word to Georgiana at Matlock of his imminent return to Pemberley.

He then detoured to Scarborough to visit Bingley, who had repaired there to investigate a business proposition. Specifically, his father's old business partner, who had bought him out years ago, was retiring. Not having a son of his own, he wished to take Bingley Junior back into partnership to secure the fortunes of his unmarried daughters. Of course, Caroline was aghast at the prospect of her brother re-entering the world of trade, but ironically she had largely engineered the situation herself. Had Charles been happily settled with Jane Bennet, he probably would have acquiesced to his sister's demands. But he was unhappy and antsy; and determined to be hen-pecked no longer.

Bingley had almost concluded his business in Scarborough and was waiting only for the contract to be signed. Darcy had originally hoped his friend might accompany him back to Derbyshire, but given the uncertainty of the timing, it seemed prudent for them to travel separately. Thus Bingley agreed to repair to Pemberley for a short while on his way back to London, from whence he intended to effect his permanent removal to Yorkshire. Caroline would stay in London with the Hurst's.

The ride back to Pemberley was hot and dusty. Taking a shortcut cross country, Darcy determined to stop at the swimming hole that he and Richard had frequented as teenagers. Arriving at this spot, he left his horse to graze and drink. Then shucking off his clothes, he walked naked along the pontoon and dove in. After the long hot ride, it was heavenly.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter.<p>

The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent.

Elizabeth's mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for half-a-mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; and in front, a large stream swelled into a lake, though whether this was natural or contrived, it was difficult to tell. Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste.

The Gardiners and Jane were warm in their admiration; but Elizabeth could only think that she suddenly understood the basis for his arrogance. It was all so grand! She felt she had stumbled across some magical land where he ruled as a petty princeling!

They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and, while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehension of meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the hall where they waited for the housekeeper.

A respectable-looking elderly woman arrived, much less fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her, and introduced herself as Mrs Reynolds: a name Elizabeth instantly recognised from her conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam.

They followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. The windows afforded a beautiful prospect: a hill, crowned with wood; the river with trees scattered on its banks; and a winding valley. As they passed into other rooms it became clear the house had been designed to afford beautiful views from every room. Each room was lofty and handsome, and she could only admire Mr Darcy's taste in furniture, which was elegant without being gaudy or uselessly fine; with less of splendour than the furniture of Rosings.

She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether her master was really absent, but had not the courage for it. At length however, the question was asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, when Mrs Reynolds replied that he was, but added, "His trip to Yorkshire was originally planned to keep him another week, but he sent word that his business is concluded and we expect him back tomorrow."

Mr Gardiner, whose manners were very easy and pleasant, encouraged Mrs Reynolds by his questions and remarks.

"Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?"

"Not so much as I could wish, sir; but I dare say he may spend half his time here."

"If your master would marry, you might see more of him," remarked Mr Gardiner.

"Yes, sir; but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who is good enough for him."

This made Elizabeth grit her teeth.

"I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that knows him," continued Mrs Reynolds.

Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, "I have never known a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old."

This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion.

"There are very few people of whom so much can be said." replied Mr Gardiner, "You are lucky in having such a master."

"Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. But I have always observed, that they who are good-natured when children, are good-natured when they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the world."

Elizabeth almost stared at her. "Can this be Mr Darcy?" thought she.

"His father was an excellent man," said Mrs Gardiner.

"Yes, ma'am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him—just as affable to the poor."

Elizabeth listened, wondered, and doubted. She could only assume that they paid the servants well at Pemberley.

Mr Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family prejudice to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his many merits as they proceeded together up the great staircase.

"He is the best landlord, and the best master," said she, "that ever lived; not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men."

On reaching the spacious lobby above they were shown into a very pretty sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than the apartments below; and were informed that it was but just done to give pleasure to Miss Darcy.

"He is certainly a good brother," said Jane, as she walked towards one of the windows.

Mrs Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy's delight, when she should enter the room. "And this is always the way with him," she added. "Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her."

The picture-gallery, the library and the music room were all that remained to be shown.

In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked in quest of the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it arrested her—and she beheld a striking resemblance to Mr Darcy, with his familiar look of hauteur. Another portrait beside it, in a similar style and format, could be of no other than his sister.

"And that," said Mrs Reynolds, pointing to this portrait, "is my master—and very like him. It was completed only a year ago."

"I have heard much of your master's fine person," said Mrs Gardiner, looking at the picture; "it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy and Jane, you can tell us whether it is like or not."

Mrs Reynolds respect for the young ladies seemed to increase on this intimation of their knowing her master.

"Do these young ladies know Mr Darcy?"

Jane nodded complaisantly, while Elizabeth coloured, and said: "A little."

"And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma'am?" said Mrs Reynolds, directing her question at Elizabeth with a knowing smile.

"Yes, very handsome," she replied noncommittally.

"I am sure I know none so handsome."

Mrs Reynolds then directed their attention to the portrait of Miss Darcy.

"And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?" said Mrs Gardiner.

"Oh! yes—the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so accomplished!—She plays and sings all day long. In the music room is a new instrument just come down for her—a present from my master; she is currently at Matlock but comes here to-morrow to join him."

Lizzy's eye was then drawn to two family portraits on the other side, both containing a small boy with an unruly head of dark curls. The eyes of this boy clearly identified him as Mr Darcy. One portrait showed him with both his parents: his father's hand lay proudly upon his shoulder. In the second portrait, he was posed less formally with his mother, a lady with dark chestnut tresses not dissimilar to her own. His head lay against her breast while her arm encompassed his shoulders. Elizabeth noted the sweetness and similarity of their smiles. She stood several minutes before this picture, in earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the gallery. Mrs Reynolds informed them that both the family portraits were completed shortly before Mr Darcy's parents tragically died in a carriage accident.

Mrs Gardiner shook her head sadly. Her family had moved from Lambton before the incident, but she recalled her parents discussing the tragedy, communicated by her aunt.

They then exited the gallery by the other end, down some stairs. Mrs Reynolds awaited them in a handsome foyer before a pair of oversize double doors. "And this," she said, as she opened these doors, "is the famous Pemberley library, considered to be one of the finest in England."

They entered into what Lizzy could only describe as a wonderland. The room was of magnificent proportions and of double height with a mezzanine balcony running around the periphery of three sides which could be reached by a spiral staircase. More formal and ornate than the rest of the house, it had a vaulted ceiling, and was lit principally by a wall of windows facing south. The books, thousands of them, lined the walls from floor to ceiling.

"Oh!" exclaimed Lizzy, gobsmacked by its magnificence. _If my father covets the Netherfield library, what would he do if he saw this? Barricade himself in and refuse to come out?_

Lizzy heard her relatives make suitably appreciative noises before Mrs Reynolds directed them to the music room, but she just stood there unable to move, feeling like a pig in mud.

* * *

><p>After swimming in lazy circles for a while, Darcy hauled himself out of the water and lay in the sun on the pontoon until he was dry, before pulling his small clothes, breeches and shirt on. Stringing his boots together with his cravat, he rolled his waistcoat inside his tail coat and tied the arms; disposing the bundles behind his saddle. Then he mounted his horse barefoot and headed back to the stables. He knew that Mrs Reynolds would scold him if he walked through the public rooms attired thus, because there were sometimes tours at this time of year, so he made his way round the side of the house and nipped in through the library.<p>

Lizzy could not believe her eyes when Mr Darcy walked in a door set in the south windows in less than formal attire. As he put down the boots in his right hand and turned to close the door, she was treated to a vision of a pair of tight muscular buns sheathed in skintight buckskin breeches that literally took her breath away. Turning back towards her, he picked up his boots once more; then standing upright, tossed his head to flick his dark locks out of his eyes. He obviously hadn't had a haircut recently. The curls tumbled over his collar at the back, and stood out in wild disarray around his head. He looked much younger than when he was formally dressed, and devastatingly handsome.

Completely oblivious to her intrusion, he continued towards her and she froze in front of him like a startled deer. He'd rolled his sleeves up, and she could see that his forearms, which were muscular but surprisingly unhairy, tapered down to a fine pair of wrists before blossoming into the large hands with long fingers that she had studied so long ago when they were playing chess. His long muscular neck, which rose straight up from a pair of broad square shoulders, was almost a bull neck.

Halfway across the room, his eyes adjusted to the sparser light; and finally realising he was not alone, he stopped dead in his tracks and blinked.

"Miss Bennet!" he said, promptly dropping his boots.

On picking these up, the top of his shirt gaped open and she was treated to a great view down his front as he stood up.

She blushed from head to toe.

Upon seeing this, he suddenly became aware that he was dishabille in front of a lady, and brought the bundle of clothes in his left hand up to his chest.

He glanced at the spiral staircase which led to the mezzanine and thence to the masters chambers.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I didn't realise the room was occupied."

"I beg your pardon, Mr Darcy," she said backing towards the entrance. "I lingered to appreciate the library and got separated from my group."

"Please!" he begged. "Don't let me disturb you! I'm taking a short cut to my rooms. If you will give me but half an hour, I will be back!"

Upon saying this, he took three quick strides to gain the bottom of the staircase, then fled nimbly up the steps in his bare feet before disappearing behind a door disguised by a bookcase.

Elizabeth retreated quickly across the adjoining room into the music room where the Gardiners and Jane were admiring a gilded harp.

"And this," said Mrs Reynolds, "was the Mistress's harp. She played like an angel!"

"Jane!" Lizzy hissed into her sister's ear, "Help me! We must leave. Mr Darcy has returned!"

But this Jane was by no means inclined to do. Granted she knew Elizabeth thought him an unlikable arrogant fellow, but there was no need to run in the other direction as soon as he walked in door.

Elizabeth was nearly beside herself. Here she was, a member of the _hoi polloi _caught trespassing on his majesty's turf, and the last time she'd engaged him on neutral ground she'd taken a stick to him. Perhaps he would lock her in the dungeons and exercise _droit de seigneur?_

**See the Via Luton board on Pinterest for a picture of the library. You can follow the link on my profile.**


	34. Chapter 34

**After that very gothic cliffhanger we resume.**

Lizzy was overpowered by shame and vexation. Her coming to Pemberley was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in the world! How strange it must appear to him! In what a disgraceful light might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if she had purposely thrown herself in his way again! Oh! why did she come? Or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? She blushed again and again over the perverseness of the meeting.

She tried to encourage her relatives to move back through the house towards the entrance, pulling ahead and then waiting impatiently for them to get closer, before moving again. Mr Gardiner was still intent on asking all manner of questions of Mrs Reynolds, and Jane dawdled also. Possibly she hoped that Mr Bingley might pop up from behind the furniture. Lizzy was distraught. _Could she manage her escape in half an hour?_

Her efforts were in vain. They had barely reached the lobby when Mr Darcy appeared not fifteen minutes later, immaculately attired, but still with overlong hair which he had somehow managed to tame.

* * *

><p>Darcy's mind was in turmoil when he reached his chambers. His first thought was that fate had given him a second chance; that he must make himself presentable in a trice, before she managed to escape from his life again. Fortunately Finn was in his chambers, darning a rent in a nightshirt by the light of a window. But as his valet quickly and efficiently prepared him, he tried to calm himself and think more rationally. He had erred grandly at Hunsford with his improper proposal. Clearly, Elizabeth was now uncomfortable in his presence. He must do his utmost to assuage her anxiety that there would ever be a repeat performance of that shameful episode.<p>

She had said she was in a group. Perhaps her sister Jane accompanied her? If so, she might be willing to attend a dinner if Bingley was present.

Finn declared him ready but tut-tutted over the overlong hair. He'd tried to cut it before Darcy had gone off to Yorkshire, but had received no cooperation from his Master. Darcy couldn't be bothered. The only person he was interested in impressing he thought to be in Hertfordshire.

Running into the hallway, Darcy flew down the stairs and strode through the house, alert for the sound of Mrs Reynolds' voice. He could hear they had reached the lobby. Slowing down and adjusting his cuffs, he moved to join the group which he saw consisted of Elizabeth and her sister Jane (_yes!_), as well as a slightly older couple.

He greeted Jane and Elizabeth as acquaintances of long standing.

"Would you be so kind to introduce me?" he said looking at their companions.

"Certainly," replied Jane and presented her aunt and uncle of Gracechurch street.

Lizzy stole a sly look at him, to see how he bore it, and was not without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he could from such disgraceful companions. That he was surprised by the connection was evident; he sustained it, however, with fortitude.

_Gracechurch St?_ Darcy thought. This was not how he had imagined her aunt and uncle. They were a young handsome couple dressed in expensive fabrics, but with such restraint. The woman smiled with an enigmatic intelligence.

So far from going away, Darcy bent to kiss the lady's hand, completely failing to recognise them from the theatre, when his eyes had been fixed solely on Elizabeth.

Mrs Gardiner was amused by this old fashioned gesture which pricked at her memory.

Darcy then entered into conversation with Mr Gardiner.

Elizabeth could not but be pleased, despite her anxiety. It was consoling that he should know she had some relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good manners.

Her astonishment, however, was extreme. Just what was Mr Darcy up to? She could not claim to understand the rules of the ton, but one did not generally fraternise with the relatives of one's mistress? _Did one?_

After ten minutes of polite conversation, Mr Gardiner considered they had imposed upon the great man enough, and began to move the party towards the waiting carriage.

As they crunched across the gravel of the drive, Darcy moved to walk beside Elizabeth with his hands clasped behind his back.

"There is a person arriving tomorrow," he ventured, "who most particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay?"

The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too great for her to know in what manner she acceded to it.

Having made their farewells, Mr Darcy handed the ladies into the carriage. Elizabeth was loath to give him her hand, but he treated her with perfect propriety. For his part, he was careful not to distinguish her from the other two ladies when they touched, as much as he wished to cling to her hand. When they drove off, Elizabeth saw him walking slowly towards the house.

The observations of her uncle and aunt now began;

"Lizzy, Jane, is he not the gentleman who greeted you at the theatre?"

They affirmed he was.

Her aunt and uncle then proceeded to pronounce him to be infinitely superior to anything they had expected. "He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and unassuming," said her uncle.

"There is something a little stately in him, to be sure," replied her aunt, "but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now say with the housekeeper, that though some people may call him proud, I have seen nothing of it."

"I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth and Jane is very trifling."

"Well, Lizzy," said her aunt, "how came you to tell me that he was so disagreeable?"

Elizabeth felt that they had entirely misunderstood his character, but could say nothing.

"There is something of dignity in his countenance that would not give one an unfavourable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the good lady who showed us his house did give him a most flaming character! I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal master, I suppose, and that in the eye of a servant comprehends every virtue."

Elizabeth could do nothing but think, and think with wonder, of Mr Darcy's civility, and, above all, of his wishing her to be acquainted with his sister, which seemed inconsistent with a renewal of his previous improper proposal.

And his behaviour, so strikingly altered—what could it mean? That he should even speak to her was amazing!—but to speak with such civility, Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified, never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting! She knew not what to think, or how to account for it.

Certainly this man had greatly insulted her, but Elizabeth was frankly incredulous that he did not now hate her. While her indignation had been righteous, in retrospect she could not be happy with the way she had reacted. But how did one tell someone politely that you did not wish to be their mistress?

With the benefit of hindsight, she believed she had acted from within a seething tumult of emotions: _shock_, in realising Charlotte's suspicions of his attachment had been correct; _confusion_, at the effect of his kiss and her own rather wanton behaviour in responding to it; _outrage_, at his proposition; and _fear_, that he might use his superior physical advantage to overpower her.

He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance, and without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister. Such a change in a man of so much pride exciting not only astonishment but gratitude—was it possible that he was truly in love with her?


	35. Chapter 35

The following morning, the Gardiner party had just returned to the inn after walking out, when the sound of a carriage drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and a lady in a curricle driving up the street. Elizabeth immediately recognizing the livery, retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as she walked up and down the room, endeavouring to compose herself, saw such looks of inquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made everything worse.

Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. Since her arrival at Lambton, she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud. Elizabeth had expected to be introduced to a grander version of Caroline Bingley, but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that Miss Darcy was only exceedingly shy. Elizabeth found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable.

Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother; but there was sense and good humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle.

Glancing briefly at Mr Darcy, Elizabeth noticed he had cut his hair. Whenever she was able, she darted a look at him during the course of the conversation and always saw an expression of general complaisance, and in all that he said she heard an accent so removed from hauteur or disdain of his companions, as convinced her that the improvement of manners which she had witnessed yesterday, however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one day. When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance and courting the good opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would have been a disgrace—when she saw him thus civil, not only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage—the difference, the change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible.

Their visitors stayed with them above half-an-hour; and when they arose to depart, Mr Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing their wish of seeing Mr and Mrs Gardiner, and the Misses Bennet, to dinner at Pemberley, before they left the country. Miss Darcy, though with a diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving invitations, readily obeyed. Mrs Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing how she, whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming however, that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment than any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was fond of society, a perfect willingness to accept it; and in Jane, a silent entreaty to do so, she ventured to engage their attendance, and that very evening was fixed on.

Eager to be alone, and fearful of inquiries or hints from her uncle and aunt, Elizabeth stayed with them only long enough to hear their favourable opinion of Miss Darcy, and then hurried away to dress.

But she had no reason to fear Mr and Mrs Gardiner's curiosity; it was not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was much better acquainted with Mr Darcy than they had before any idea of; it was evident that he was very much in love with her. They saw much to interest, but nothing to justify inquiry.

But Jane was not so easily satisfied. She followed Elizabeth into the their chamber, ostensibly to choose their dresses for the evening.

"Why are you behaving so stiffly to Mr Darcy, Lizzy? He has been more than gracious to us and you are being almost uncivil."

Having not been forthcoming to her sister before of her experience at Hunsford, Lizzy could hardly start now; and she suspected that even if she should reveal the truth, her sister would find someway to excuse Mr Darcy's behaviour at the expense of her own—that she had in fact precipitated the improper proposal by her own unseemly conduct. Indeed, in her most uncertain hours, she had reexamined their interactions at Netherfield and Hunsford for some false step on her part, but she could think of nothing. _Oh why could he not just leave her alone?_

"I do not know why he is being so civil to us, Jane. You know how horrible he has been in the past."

"I know nothing of the sort! He is obviously partial to you, Lizzy. He danced with you twice at the Netherfield Ball! What more do you require? That he should knock you on the head?"

Lizzy twisted her mouth at the irony of it. She was sure Mr Darcy would probably be very happy to knock her on the head and drag her off to his chambers to have his way with her. She was just not happy to comply.

"Please don't leave me alone with him. In fact, don't leave me alone at all, even if you should need to use the chamber pot, I will come too."

"Very well," replied Jane, "I think you are being silly, but I will stick to you like glue if only you will be nice to him."

They then set about choosing their dresses for the evening. They really did not have anything grand enough for Pemberley, not having seen the need to bring their silk ball dresses with them on tour. Jane picked out a powder blue muslin which set her guinea gold curls off to advantage and Lizzy selected a dusky pink dress that Mary had embellished with some embroidered cherries, which was the best her limited wardrobe could afford. Their aunt then joined them to discuss how best to distribute the limited accessories at their disposal to complement her niece's dresses. She loaned her set of pearls to Jane and a Norwich silk shawl to Lizzy, then returned from a call to a well dressed friend with two pairs of long gloves on loan. The result was very respectable.

Mr Darcy's carriage, which was sent to pick them up from the inn, arrived punctually, and two footmen jumped down from behind to assist the ladies inside. This was a very fine carriage, quite above the post chaises they had frequented in their travels. Mrs Gardiner stroked the plush upholstery as she smiled at her nieces, but none of them were willing to say a word of the luxury they found themselves surrounded by lest the footmen should hear. Thus, they were whisked to Pemberley.

On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts which were scattered over the intermediate lawn.

In the saloon they were received by Miss Darcy and her companion, a Mrs Annersley. Georgiana's reception of them was very civil, but attended with all the embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs Gardiner and her nieces, however, did her justice, and pitied her.

Georgiana apologised for her brother being momentarily delayed by some estate business. A fire had started in one of the tenant's houses, and while not serious, required the organisation of some temporary accommodation while the damage was repaired.

Between Mrs Annersley and Mrs Gardiner, with occasional help from her nieces, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a short sentence when there was least danger of its being heard.

Elizabeth was not sorry to be spared the necessity of saying much. Her own thoughts were employing her. She expected every moment that Mr Darcy would enter the room, and began to wonder whether she feared or actually wished it, since he would at least provide more sensible conversation.

No sooner did he appear than Elizabeth wisely resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed; a resolution the more necessary to be made, but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them, and that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his behaviour when he first came into the room.

Miss Darcy, on her brother's entrance, exerted herself much more to talk, and Elizabeth saw that he was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side.

They sat down to dinner, slightly overawed by the modern Wedgwood dinner service. Darcy, who sat at the head of the table, had positioned Miss Elizabeth on his right and Mr Gardiner on his left. He had placed Jane on Georgiana's left at the foot of the table and Mrs Gardener on her right. Mrs Annersley sat down between the Gardeners.

They had almost finished the soup when a slight commotion was heard in the hallway.

Darcy looked up to see his cousin, Viscount Stanley, walk in the door.

"Darcy! Good to see you!" said the Viscount lurching suddenly to one side.

Darcy stood up quickly. _Dammit he is drunk._ His eyes flicked to the two footmen who trailed uncertainly into the room. They could tell the master was not pleased, and rightly so, but they were also unsure if it was permitted to tackle the Earl's son.

"Stanley," Darcy said, moving towards him. "I wasn't expecting you."

"No, I bet your weren't!" his cousin said too loudly, moving diagonally across the room and picking up a brandy decanter which sat on a sideboard. "Trouble is," he said, pulling out the stopper, "they've hidden all the damn stuff at Matlock!"

And with that, the Viscount upended the decanter into his mouth, taking two gulps as Darcy stood frozen, aghast that he'd put his lips to the bottle. Thereupon Viscount Henry Stanley, heir to the Earldom of Matlock wavered, and promptly collapsed onto the floor.

A footman snatched at the decanter as it tipped sideways, spilling some of its contents onto the carpet.

Darcy turned towards his guests to apologise. Mr and Mrs Gardiner were quietly conversing with Mrs Annersley as if nothing had happened. Georgiana had her hand over her mouth. Jane Bennet gave him a timid smile, and Elizabeth? she was staring at him with her mouth agape. Darcy was mortified.

A pair of boots could be heard tromping loudly down the hall, and into this tableau stalked Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam accompanied by a flustered Mrs Reynolds.

"Ah, Darcy!" Richard said, observing the prostrate form of his brother. "I see you've found Henry."

Mrs Reynolds bustled over to kneel beside the Viscount.

Richard then became aware that they were not alone in the dining room and spinning on the spot, he was preparing to make a polite bow to the guests, when he recognised Miss Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet!" he exclaimed and stepped forward to bow over her hand. Then his eyes popped when he saw the lady seated beside her.

Noticing the familiar reaction which frequently accompanied males entering her sister's orbit, Lizzy laughed.

"No sir, I am Miss Elizabeth! This," she gestured to Jane, "is Miss Bennet!"

"Two lovely Miss Bennets!" said Richard bending over Jane's hand, "My cup runneth over!"

He winked at Georgie.

Darcy coughed, "Richard I'd appreciate if you could help me with the Viscount."

Richard bowed again and turned away.

The footmen had lifted the Viscount from the floor and were awaiting instructions.

After a whispered conference between Darcy and Mrs Reynolds, the footmen moved off carrying the Viscount, with Mrs Reynolds and the colonel trailing behind.


	36. Chapter 36

Darcy returned to the table. "Please accept my sincere apologies for the interruption. My cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam will be joining us soon."

As the soup plates were cleared, Darcy ventured to enquire of Mr Gardiner's business, a development which greatly surprised Elizabeth. Elizabeth listened as Mr Gardiner spoke very intelligently of his import/export business. For his part, Darcy could only wonder that this man was Mrs Bennet's brother.

The dishes for the main course were just being laid on the table when Colonel Fitzwilliam reentered the room and sat gleefully in the vacant chair between the two Misses Bennet. Darcy performed the necessary introductions to the Gardiners, which had been neglected in the general confusion following the Viscount's collapse.

"I beg you will excuse my brother," said the colonel, "he has had some sad news and is not coping well."

"Of course," replied Mrs Gardiner. "I hope he is feeling better in the morning."

Richard then turned to Elizabeth and began to talk of happier times at the Parsonage. Darcy looked on ruefully, but did his best to focus on his conversation with Mr Gardiner. Jane and Mrs Gardiner were meanwhile doing a sterling job of drawing Georgiana out, much to Mrs Annersley's satisfaction.

As the covers were removed, Darcy despaired that he would ever get a chance to speak privately to Miss Elizabeth.

"With your permission Mr Gardiner, perhaps we could forgo the ladies withdrawal?" asked Darcy.

Mr Gardiner expressed his acquiescence if the colonel was in agreement.

_Excellent_, thought Darcy: he certainly didn't want to touch the brandy now anyway...

"Perhaps Georgiana, we should move to the music room for tea?" he suggested.

His sister smiled and led the way.

Colonel Fitzwilliam offered his arm to Miss Bennet, leaving Darcy to escort Miss Elizabeth. He was wracking his brain to think of someway to get her alone so that he could speak to her.

Upon entering the music room, Georgiana immediately sat down at the piano and began to play a piece by Mozart. This she found far less taxing than conversation.

The colonel led Miss Bennet to a love seat facing a settee and promptly sat down with her, causing Darcy to scowl, since this was the exact spot he had hoped to occupy with Miss Elizabeth.

Instead he led Elizabeth to one end of the settee, indicating to Mrs Annersley that she should sit beside her. He placed a carver at the opposite end of the settee so Mrs Gardiner could occupy the vacant position on the sofa with Mr Gardiner in the carver. He then retrieved another carver for himself and placed it beside Miss Elizabeth.

"So just how many lovely sisters do you have, Miss Bennet?" asked the Colonel. He remembered of course that Miss Elizabeth had four, but information was not his game.

"Four, Colonel," replied Jane with a smile.

"And are they all as lovely as yourself and Miss Elizabeth?"

"Many older gentleman say that our mother far outshone us all," replied Jane modestly.

"How gallant of them!" replied Richard. He then leaned closer to Jane and said in a staged whisper. "I would suspect their motives."

Darcy used the distraction of the tea arriving to give Richard a swift kick: an action which did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth.

Mrs Annersley got up to help Mrs Reynolds serve the tea.

Elizabeth was made uncomfortable by Mr Darcy's proximity. The seat of the carver was higher than the settee and his long legs set his knee even higher than his hip. She was too aware of his muscular thigh displayed in his skin tight pantaloons just beside her.

When Mrs Annersley handed her a cup of tea, she stood up to receive it, then wandered over to Georgiana at the piano.

Mr Darcy sighed into his cup.

Elizabeth sipped her tea as she watched how Georgiana's fingers flew over the keys, noting that musical talent seemed to run in the family.

She rued her mode of escape from Mr Darcy as soon as Georgiana finished her piece. Once the applause died down, the Colonel requested a song.

She attempted to demur, encouraging Georgiana to continue, but Mr Darcy's little sister added her entreaties to the Colonel's, and she agreed to sing provided Georgie would accompany her. They put their heads together to select a piece.

"Do you also play and sing Miss Bennet?" asked the Colonel as he selected another macaroon from the dish in front of him.

"No, sir, only Elizabeth and Mary. Elizabeth is the better singer and Mary the better pianist."

Elizabeth then proceeded to display her talents with a lovely rendition of _Se tu m'ami, se sospiri_ by Pergolesi. As her clear, bell-like voice filled the room, Darcy sat back in his chair and sighed, then drifted off into a reverie.

Upon completion of the piece he rose to meet her, as she walked back towards the settee.

"Miss Elizabeth, I noticed you appreciated the library, could I tempt you to take a personal tour?" said Darcy, wincing mentally as soon as the words were out of his mouth. There were at least two associations there that were best not alluded to.

"Do you think it is handsome enough to tempt me?" she replied with an arched brow.

_Ah, she did not spare the lash!_

"What an excellent idea!" said the colonel standing up. "Have you seen it Miss Bennet?" he asked, offering her his arm.

Jane dutifully took the proffered arm and the Gardiners stood up to follow.

Upon entering the grand room, Mr Darcy expressed a wish to show Elizabeth some new volumes of poetry he had recently obtained and walked quickly to the far end of the library.

_Poetry? What use did she have for poetry? _She preferred useful books, books of facts, although she must admit to being entertained by the occasional novel, which the sisters read aloud to each other as they worked. That one which Mary had recently read, written by an author who deigned only to identify herself as "A Lady" had been particularly entertaining.

For his part, Colonel Fitzwilliam insisted on showing Miss Bennet a very creditable bust of Cicero in the vestibule, and proceeded to catalogue its attributes, from the quality of the marble to the execution of the reproduction.

Pulling a volume at random from the shelves, Darcy interposed himself between Elizabeth and the Gardiners, turning his back to the them.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said in a low voice, "did you read my letter?"

She nodded her affirmation warily.

"Then you know I sincerely regret what occurred at Hunsford."

_What occurred? _thought Lizzy. It sounded like an act of God, something beyond his control. He was denying responsibility.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Mr Darcy, though I doubt your sincerity."

"What must I do to convince you of that?" he replied rather bitterly.

"You have admitted your fault. But what have you done to repent?"

"Many things, Miss Elizabeth. Your set down has changed my perspective on life. I strive to be a better person."

"Actions speak louder than words, Mr Darcy. In your letter, you admitted interfering between Mr Bingley and Jane, acting to keep them apart. Have you made Mr Bingley aware of your subterfuge?"

He was silent.

"Mr Darcy, you have exposed one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involved them both in misery of the acutest kind. Repentance is not enough. Atonement is necessary."

"Then Miss Elizabeth, the perfect opportunity for atonement is upon us. Mr Bingley arrives tomorrow."

He then looked at the volume of poetry in his hands which happened to be one of Wordsworth's. Knowing that Elizabeth liked taking long walks, he thought the coincidence a happy one.

Stepping out of the Gardiners' line of sight he offered it to her. "Would you do me the honour of reading it?"

"I couldn't possibly borrow it, Mr Darcy. It is too valuable."

"Please," he urged, "just until you leave Derbyshire."

Receiving the volume reluctantly, Elizabeth moved back towards the group. Following in her wake, Mr Darcy enquired of Mr Gardiner how much longer they intended to stay in Lambton.

"Not much longer I'm afraid Mr Darcy, I'm expecting a shipment within the week. I will need to leave once they send word the ship has docked."

"Do you like fishing, Mr Gardiner?" asked Darcy.

Mr Gardiner was, in fact, very fond of fishing though he was seldom able to indulge the taste.

Elizabeth heard Mr Darcy invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often as he chose while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same time to supply him with fishing tackle.

"I was just saying to Miss Elizabeth," continued Darcy, "that a great friend of mine, who was also acquainted with the Bennet's in Hertfordshire, arrives tomorrow."

Having packed away her sheet music, Georgiana had wandered into the library.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, suddenly more animated. "Is Mr Bingley arriving tomorrow? He is such a nice person!"

Jane blushed, and Elizabeth wondered if Caroline's assertion of an attachment between Mr Darcy's sister and Mr Bingley was true after all.

"You must come for a picnic!" declared Georgiana.

Mr Darcy stared at his little sister in amazement. When had she become so sociable?

At length it was decided that the morrow was as good a day as any. Mr Gardiner undertook to arrive early on a job horse, while the Darcy carriage would be sent for the ladies at eleven.

**For a natural rendition of _Se tu m'ami, se sospiri _by Pergolesi follow the link on my profile**


	37. Chapter 37

After the carriage departed, Darcy finally had a chance to collar Richard as they walked back through the house.

"What sad news did your brother receive?"

"The sad news," replied Richard, "is that my father wishes to draw and quarter him."

"What has he done now?"

"I believe my father caught him in the townhouse of his new paramour."

"So he fled to Derbyshire?" asked Darcy rolling his eyes.

"My father rusticated him. He was escorted to Matlock by two footmen."

"So what is he doing here at Pemberley, and why did you not prevent his coming?"

"Sorry Darce, I arrived from Newcastle to find the house in an uproar. Took me half an hour to establish that my brother had taken his horse. Seems he's been on the sauce for several days now. Lady Miranda and mother hid and locked up anything drinkable including the rubbing alcohol. He went on a rampage when he found out. I set off after him straight away, knew that he was likely heading here, but his horse is better than mine; cost him a mint at Tattersalls, though I'll be damned if I know how he stays on it when he's legless."

"For Pete's sake Richard, Georgie has only just come home from Matlock. Do you mean to tell me he's been behaving like this while Georgiana was there?"

"Well, I won't tell you then. I'm sure mother would have kept Georgie safe in another part of the house."

Darcy grimaced. It was not just that Georgie might have been harmed, the thought that she had to witness a man in such a state discomposed Darcy.

"So uncle rusticated him. How thoughtful of him to let his wife and daughter-in-law deal with the problem!"

"He's got lots of important things to do in London," replied Richard, "like mounting his mistress when Henry's not doing it for him."

"Now what?" asked Darcy.

"For the moment, I've tied him to the bed, and left a footman with him so he doesn't drown in his own vomit."

"How repulsive!" growled Darcy.

"I'd better go check him before I turn in. Wouldn't do for him to croak on my watch. There'd be a hell of a scandal."

"Which footman is with him?" asked Darcy.

"Povey said he'd take the midnight to dawn watch."

"Good, he's reliable. I'll guess we'll work out what to do with him in the morning. Pity I don't have any dungeons."

"Well, we still have one at Matlock," replied Richard, "though we use it as a cellar these days, so probably not the best place to store him."

They had reached the top of the stairs. Richard slapped Darcy on the back, and headed off to the guest wing to check on his brother, muttering goodnight as he went.

Darcy turned into the family wing and almost ran into Georgiana.

"Georgie!" he blurted in surprise. Darcy was embarrassed his littler sister might have caught him using less then decorous language. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Stop trying to wrap everything up in clean linen, brother," said Georgiana. "I'm not the least bit interested in whatever sordid thing Henry is doing now."

Darcy wondered who this lady was, and what she had done with his sister.

"Is Miss Elizabeth the one?" she asked.

Darcy was gobsmacked. He briefly considered denying it, but knew it was useless.

"Yes."

"She's very nice."

"Yes."

"So why did she refuse you?" asked Georgiana.

"Georgiana, please… " pleaded Darcy, "It's too embarrassing."

"I can't help you, if you don't tell me."

"Please Georgiana, I need to tell Mrs Reynolds of the picnic."

"It is already done, brother."

Georgiana waited, but Darcy was not forthcoming.

"I wish you would stop treating me like I am five years old," sniffed Georgiana, retreating to her room. "George Wickham was one mistake."

And with that she slammed her bedroom door.

Darcy wondered when his little sister had grown up.

Darcy had difficulty going to sleep. He was mortified by the Viscount's interruption of dinner. The scene played over and over again in his head.

He remembered how he'd got drunk after Christmas dinner and spent so much time at the brothel before going to Kent. He wondered if that is how Miss Elizabeth viewed him: as a drunken, profligate member of the ton. He'd always viewed himself as a world away from his disreputable cousin, the Viscount, but really the sins were the same, it was just a question of degree...

He suddenly felt intensely disgusted with himself.

* * *

><p>Mr Gardiner presented himself at Pemberley after breakfast for the projected fishing expedition. Darcy spent some time showing him the best spots in the stream and then left him to the care of an undergroom who was also a keen fishermen. Darcy was in no mood for fishing himself. He returned to the house contemplating just what he would say to Bingley when he turned up.<p>

Bingley had sent word to Darcy the previous day that he had arrived in Sheffield and would likely proceed to Pemberley on the morrow. Knowing his friend's tendency to get distracted, Darcy sent a footman off at cockcrow to either intercept Bingley, or roust him from the inn at Sheffield. The message he carried instructed Bingley to get himself to Pemberley by noon, even if he needed to ride _ventre a terre_ to do so.

Bingley had, that morning, set out from Sheffield after a leisurely breakfast and was proceeding at his usual pace by alternately walking and cantering his horse. Never much of a horseman, he didn't have Darcy's seat, and couldn't stand trotting. Still he preferred getting the exercise to sitting in a carriage. When he was intercepted by the footman and had scanned Darcy's missive, Bingley wondered if there was some family emergency: there was no explanation, just the instruction to come. Nonetheless he implicitly trusted his friend, and set the horse into a full canter. He would change at the next posting house if necessary.

He arrived at Pemberley around half-eleven and was greeted at the front door by Mrs Reynolds, who took his hat and showed him into Darcy's study.

"Bingley!" said Darcy striding towards his friend. "You are here in the nick of time!"

"What is going forward Darcy?" Bingley had never seen his friend so agitated.

"I have a confession to make Bingley. You had better sit down."

Bingley frowned, "I think I'll stand."

"Bingley, do you remember when you left Netherfield last year, and I helped convince you that you were mistaken in Miss Jane Bennet's feelings for you?

"Yes..." said Bingley uncertainly, wondering why this topic had come up now.

"I was wrong," said Darcy.

"But how do you know this?" asked Bingley.

"She is here," said Darcy.

"At Pemberley?" said Bingley, looking confused.

"In Derbyshire," said Darcy, "She's coming to Pemberley for lunch."

"Well, that's wonderful!" said Bingley, all eagerness. "But how did you discover your error?"

_Now this was the tricky part,_ thought Darcy. He needed to prepare Bingley for a potentially bad reaction on Miss Bennet's part. "Miss Elizabeth told me. Apparently her sister was quite upset after you left."

"What?" said Bingley, paling and collapsing back into the nearest chair. "I _thought_ she liked me, but Caroline convinced me I was being vain! Do you mean she's been pining away in Hertfordshire all this time? Lord! She probably thinks I'm a cad!"

"Bingley, it's a little worse than that," said Darcy and then instantly regretted his choice of words.

"How can it possibly be worse?" sputtered Bingley.

"She tried to visit you in London," confessed Darcy.

"What!" exclaimed Bingley. "How is it that I know nothing of this?"

"She believes you went to Vienna."

"Vienna?" asked Bingley. "What on earth would I be doing in Vienna?"

"There seems to be some miscommunication," said Darcy lamely.

Bingley looked very confused, then he brightened.

"So she likes me after all?" he asked tentatively.

"Apparently, yes. I was talking to Miss Elizabeth..."

"And they're coming to lunch?"

"We're having a picnic."

"Well I must make myself presentable!"

"Mrs Reynolds has the green room ready for you."

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, when the ladies entered the saloon, Bingley was ready. There were effusions from himself, blushes from Jane Bannet, and nine months of heartache on her part suddenly evaporated.<p>

Mrs Gardiner watched in some amazement, wondering at the gentleman's sincerity.

After Mrs Reynolds entered and announced the picnic was ready on the lawn, Darcy offered Mrs Gardiner and Miss Elizabeth his arms. They descended to a picturesque site near the lake where they found the Colonel and Mr Gardiner discussing Wellington's campaign in the peninsula while Georgiana ordered footmen about.

The repast that have been set out on some rugs was truly magnificent and had been augmented by two trout caught by Mr Gardiner. While the number of fish was small, their freshness could not be denied. Mr Gardiner complained that Derbyshire fish were far too cunning.

Following lunch, Mr Darcy suggested they make a circuit of the lake. The Gardiners demurred, citing a wish to relax. After the young people went off, Mr Gardiner fell asleep in his wife's lap. She was content to watch the young people in the distance, wondering about the two gentlemen who seemed very interested in her nieces.

Elizabeth set off at her usual jaunty pace with Mr Darcy following close behind. Georgiana, who had dawdled with the Colonel to feed the ducks, offered some bread to Jane and Mr Bingley.

As the gap between them widened, Darcy saw his chance.

"Miss Elizabeth, please accept my humblest apologies for my outrageous behaviour at Rosings. There is nothing in my life I regret more. I have the deepest admiration and respect for you, but I let my ardour get the better of me. You let me kiss you at Hunsford. Tell me there is hope."

"Perhaps we both let our ardour get the better of us, Mr Darcy," she replied.

Darcy fought back a wave a desire as he remembered the way she had melted in his arms.

"But," Elizabeth continued, "I think your actions constituted something more than being carried away by the moment. The offer you made was based on the belief of my inferiority to yourself. Now that I have visited your home, I understand the basis of your arrogance. But I cannot accept it. Should I ever choose to marry, I could not accept a partner who thought me beneath him. I am a gentleman's daughter. Your riches mean nothing to me. I have no need of them. I merely wish to be comfortable."

Darcy searched her face. "I accept your reproof, and realise now that my own position has been one of hypocrisy. Particularly in the light of the behaviour of some of my own relatives. Your younger sisters may lack decorum, but you and your sister Jane are above reproach."

Lizzy bristled at this new accusation. _Who was he to poke a stick at her relatives?_ "Oh really? Lack decorum? That is mild. I believe the term 'hoyden' was employed."

Darcy's mind flashed back to his unfortunate encounter with Lydia and Wickham at the Netherfield ball. _Certainly he had thought it, but he had not said it..._

"I do not believe I have ever described your sister in those terms to anyone, Miss Elizabeth, on my honour!"

"I was not talking of my sister Mr Darcy, but of myself. I came to Netherfield to nurse my sister; walked three miles over muddy ground to do so, and you slandered me to the Bingley sisters as the veriest hoyden."

Darcy staggered, his memory was too good to have forgotten the incident. But it seemed such a world away, another lifetime... _How could he have ever had such thoughts of her? And to think she had overheard!_ He was filled with shame.

"I... " He wanted to apologise, but could not frame the words. A million apologies rushed into his head, all clamouring for his attention.

"Do not bother, Mr Darcy," she said turning her head away and trying to get her anger under control. "It matters not."

They walked on in uncomfortable silence, each of them deep in thought.

"Mr Darcy, for reasons I do not understand I find myself strangely attracted to you."

A small flicker of hope stirred in Darcy's breast.

"If you had offered marriage to me at Hunsford," continued Elizabeth, "I might have accepted, merely because I had not thought about it carefully. But plenty of time has passed to allow me to know my own mind. I am not interested in fashion or glittering balls in London. We would not suit."

Darcy could now see he had gone about fixing his interest with Miss Elizabeth in entirely the wrong way from start to finish. He didn't care for fashion or glittering balls either, but she didn't know that. Although his thoughts had now taken a more proper direction, instead of courting her, he'd rushed the fence, and come a cropper on the other side. He dared not try to remind her of the precarious situation of her family. He had played that card at Hunsford. He knew not what to say. There seemed to be an embargo on every subject.

Lizzy had taken her bonnet off and was now swinging it by the ribbons in much the same way an angry cat flicks its tail. A dragonfly buzzed past.

"I had hoped to do something useful with my life," she said plaintively.

Darcy felt a lump form in his throat. The implication was that he was a useless fop. He knew the direction of her thoughts.

"With Dr Gregory?"

"Indeed I enjoyed my time working in the infirmary with him. However my hopes are quite cut up there. It was considered inappropriate for me to continue to assist him: he was pressured into letting me go. I have been helping Mr Jones prepare medicines since my return from Kent. At least it is useful work, but I much preferred working directly with people. Oh, if only I were a man and could go to the Medical School in Edinburgh myself!"

Darcy accepted her redirection of the conversation, pushing his cut-up hopes to the side.

"How goes Dr Gregory's search for a patron?"

"He has managed to open a small hospital in Meryton, but it is only sufficient to cope with acute cases. He is still searching for funding for a larger hospital to house veterans from the war and other invalids."

"A noble aim," replied Darcy.

They had almost completed the circuit of the lake and returned to the laggards who hadn't yet started. The Colonel was amusing Georgiana by pretending to be a duck. Bingley had gone red in the face laughing at his antics. Jane was all smiles.

"Mr Darcy, I'm sorry I lost my temper earlier. I really need to learn to let bygones be bygones. I appreciate your efforts to be civil. Indeed I wish, in the light of my sister's hopes, that we might still be friends. Perhaps we should renegotiate our truce?"

Darcy turned way quickly. He had such a look upon his face with his eyebrows drawn together, as if he might burst out crying. But then he composed himself, and adopting his mask once more, he turned back to her.

"Truce," he replied.


	38. Chapter 38

When they arrived back at the picnic rug, Mr Gardiner had woken from his nap and was sitting holding his wife's hand. He rose to greet his host.

"You must come to fish as often as you like while you remain in the area," Darcy assured Mr Gardiner, "tomorrow, if you wish."

"Thank you so much for your hospitality, Mr Darcy. That small amount of fishing has set me up nicely. I am sure I will dream on it for a twelve month. Unfortunately, I received word this morning that my ship has docked a little earlier than expected, so we must curtail our tour and return to London. As I apprised my nieces this morning, we must leave tomorrow. I fear I am not in their good books."

Here he glanced at Jane, who blushed and turned to look at Mr Bingley.

Bingley was disappointed that his angel was to depart so precipitously but could only be glad of renewing the connection. He promised to return to Netherfield soon. Jane seemed not to doubt his word, while Elizabeth could only hope that he would be more constant in the future.

"Then nothing remains," said Darcy rather stiffly, "then for me to wish you Bon Voyage."

After repairing to the driveway, Bingley handed Jane into the carriage and stood on the drive as the carriage drew away. Jane stared, smiling, from the window, hoping to draw out the last glimpse of her favourite for as long as possible.

Mr Darcy had not stepped forward to hand Elizabeth into the carriage as he had done previously, giving Mrs Gardiner much to think about. Clearly Elizabeth was more than a passing acquaintance of Mr Darcy. That they had met in Hertfordshire; that Mr Darcy had deigned to dance with Lizzy twice at the Netherfield ball, she had been apprised of thanks to Jane's communication. Lizzy had not been forthcoming, and had denied any significance to the event. Lizzy had written to Jane of meeting Mr Darcy again in Kent, and also of his droll cousin the Colonel, who she was much taken with. Indeed, her letters had been full of the colonel: his antics, his witticisms, with hardly a mention of Mr Darcy. Then she had not written during her last week in Kent, and had arrived back at Gracechurch St strangely subdued. Mrs Gardiner's suspicions were also pricked by the way Mr Darcy looked at Lizzy: the sort of soulful stare a dog might give while waiting under the dining table for scraps. She knew her independently-minded niece had the odd kick in her gallop. It seemed likely that Mr Darcy had made an offer of marriage to Lizzy during her time in Kent, which Lizzy had refused. It also seemed that he had not discontinued his attentions in Derbyshire, but that Lizzy was spurning him.

What could cause her niece to act so foolishly? Particularly so, in the light of the family's future should anything happen to her brother-in-law.

Mrs Gardiner knew that Lizzy had some strange aspirations to work. From an early age she had expressed a wish to be a governess based on a friendship she had developed with the much older Lisa Fairfax, the Lucas's governess. When she was told that it was not appropriate for a gentleman's daughter to become a governess she had hotly defended Miss Fairfax's character. Indeed, Lisa's case had been a sad one, which had happily been remedied by the return of a distant cousin from India. Instead Lizzy had declared she would become governess to Jane's children and not be paid.

Mrs Gardiner had thought that her niece's difficult phase had long passed until she was told of Lizzy's work at the infirmary during Jane's recent sojourn in London. Madeleine Gardiner had almost put pen to paper immediately to advise her niece against continuing this behaviour. But Jane had begged her not to betray her confidence; told her that Mrs Bennet was quite aware of how Lizzy was spending her time, and secretly approved, hoping that she might snare the eligible Dr Gregory; and further revealed that she had extracted a promise from Lizzy never to serve in the shop front. Mrs Gardiner had breathed a sigh of relief when Jane had received Lizzy's letter advising of her forced retirement.

She sighed. Now this. She watched her two nieces sitting on the rear facing seat as the Darcy carriage trotted towards Lambton. Each stared out their window: Jane in happy distraction, no doubt thinking of her adorable Mr Bingley; and Lizzy in blank abstraction. She did not look happy and silently her aunt vowed to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

><p>After the carriage departed, Darcy walked back to the lake to watch the sunset. The picnic paraphernalia had been cleared away and he sat down on the crushed grass left beneath the imprint of one of the blankets. The real Elisabeth was gone and only the phantom Elizabeth remained, sitting there next to him as he held her hand. She wasn't wearing the crimson ball gown anymore, but the green sprigged muslin day dress she had appeared in today. This, he decided, would be her dress outdoors. He could almost see her when he looked out of the corner of his eye. The sunset was a beautiful sight which left him strangely untouched, as the darkness descended and cloaked him, she became more corporeal. He turned to stroke her face, and touching emptiness, dropped his hand to his side. Then he rose and returned to the house.<p>

Early in the morning he'd come down early to find Bingley sitting fully dressed at the breakfast table. He announced that he'd decided to leave early, begging Darcy's pardon, but he'd had the happy notion of offering to escort the Miss Bennets back to Hertfordshire. He was to be off soon to Lambton to arrive before their projected departure at nine.

After breakfast Darcy headed to the stables and climbed into the hayloft. He had played there a lot as a child. The head groom had kept him occupied brushing and currying the horses, and helping to muck out the stalls. He'd climbed around in the hayloft finding eggs that wayward chickens had laid. After his parents had died, he'd felt less lonely surrounded by the hay, and he imagined that the chickens did too, making their nests in hidey-holes between the bales. His dog, Argos, had followed him to the stables, and finding his way barred by the ladder, laid down at its base, as if guarding it.

Darcy had felt strangely hollow since Miss Elizabeth's departure the previous day, and was at a loss to pinpoint the source of this feeling, which represented a new low for him, worse than the melancholia he had experienced during the months he had spent in Derbyshire after his return from Kent.

He sat there in the hayloft reminiscing on all the things they'd said and done, from his encounter with Mr Bennet's goat, to the infamous incident of the carpet beater, to their waltz at Netherfield. At some point he'd realised the ironic symbolism of the rose he'd selected from Aunt Catherine's garden. It had been coral, representing lust.

Meanwhile another part of his brain had been trying to understand why the continuation of what was, essentially, the status quo for his relationship, or lack thereof, with Miss Elizabeth, had plunged him into new depths of despair. He realised now that it was the Pemberley factor. At least in Kent, he had the consolation of knowing that his rejection had come from his poor offer to Elizabeth. Now he had rectified that offer; she had seen all his worldly goods, which were substantial; and she was still not interested. Thus it all boiled down to one thing: him. He knew he was not as charming as his cousin Richard, or as affable as his friend Bingley, but had never before felt so personally deficient. Not even one of the best estates in England was sufficient to render him attractive to the woman of his dreams.

Mrs Reynolds had noticed when he didn't return for lunch and sent Richard out to search for him.

When Darcy spied Richard climbing into the loft he told him in no uncertain terms to go away.

"Common Darcy, you've missed lunch. Mrs Reynolds is worried about you"

"I'm not about to expire because I've missed one meal."

"Still, I think you have better things to do than sit in the hayloft sulking, so be a good boy and come down."

"I'm not sulking."

Richard flopped down on the hay beside Darcy. "Look, Darce, I'll be blunt with you. I know you liked Miss Bennet, I mean Miss Elizabeth, but I think you kind of stuffed it in Kent. Maybe she's of a resentful nature, I don't know; but if Pemberley's not going to sway her, nothing will."

"Don't you think I know that Richard!" Darcy bellowed.

Down below, all the stable hands looked up. They had never heard the master raise his voice before.

"Well then, I'm glad we're in agreement. There are plenty more fish in the ocean."

Darcy turned his back on his cousin. Richard shrugged and made his way back down the ladder. When he got to the bottom, Argos sank his teeth into one of his topboots.

"You cur!" he said shaking him off.

Argos let go, and wagged his tail to let the Colonel know there were no hard feelings. Then he walked in a circle and lay down once more at the bottom of the ladder to prevent further incursions.

* * *

><p>When Darcy had not come in by five. Georgiana decided enough was enough.<p>

After querying Richard on the nature of their previous interaction, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Sometimes Richard, I wonder if you have a heart to give," said Georgie.

"What a nasty thing to say!" protested Richard. "What happened to my sweet little cousin?"

"She fell in love with the wrong fellow, and had some trouble getting over it," she replied tartly.

"What you don't mean George..."

"Say his name," interjected Georgiana icily, "and I will poison your tea."

Richard's mouth snapped shut.

* * *

><p>Darcy had just decided that he needed to get on with the rest of his life when Georgiana's head appeared at the top of the ladder.<p>

"Georgiana!" cried Darcy, "what are you doing!"

"Are you going to help?" she said trying to negotiate herself from the ladder to the loft, "or do I have to climb up by myself?"

He rushed forward to assist her, then gasped as he landed her like a fish on the platform.

"You're wearing breeches!"

"You would prefer that I break my neck trying to climb up in one of my gowns?"

"Are those mine?"

"Of course not. I can't fit into your breeches. They belong to Fitz."

"And where is he?"

"I'm holding the bloody ladder!" came a voice from below.

"Language!" bawled Darcy in return.

Richard's head appeared at the top of the ladder.

"Can I join the party?"

As Richard climbed into the loft, Darcy smirked.

"What's so funny?" asked the Colonel.

"Well given, Georgiana is in your breeches, I half expected you to appear in your smalls."

"Ha! Darcy said 'smalls' in front of his sister!" jeered Richard.

"Who are you to talk?" sneered Darcy back. "You loaned her your breeches!"

"Actually, these are rather comfortable," said Georgie. "I think I'll wear them riding."

"I need them!" protested Richard.

Half an hour later, they all climbed down to find Argos chewing on a knuckle bone.

"I wonder where he got that," said Darcy in passing.


	39. Chapter 39

**Thanks to everyone who has picked up typos. Merry Christmas and/or Happy New year.**

When the post-chaise arrived at Longbourn there was much excitement, and gambolling children. Mr Bennet had been truly glad to see his eldest daughters return, especially his Lizzy, who was the only one who could be relied on for some intelligent conversation. Mrs Bennet had been ecstatic to see Mr Bingley return to Longbourn and fussed over him excessively. Mr Bennet was less than overjoyed by the return of the prodigal lover. He had not been happy about the state his Jane had been left in by Bingley's careless departure after the Netherfield ball, and went off muttering that they should kill a fatted calf.

Mrs Gardiner surprised her husband by expressing a wish to stay in Hertfordshire another week, particularly because he knew his wife found his sister's company taxing. They did not actively dislike each other, they were just worlds apart. The trouble was neither of his sisters' educations had gone beyond the rudimentary. His father had deplored blue stockings and considered educating women a waste of everyone's time and money. Edward Gardiner could only thank his lucky stars that he had ended up with two sensible brothers-in-law. Fortunately both of his sisters had been well looking: Fanny had even been considered a great beauty. He shuddered to think what their lot in life would have been if they had had neither beauty nor accomplishment.

For his part, he had been determined to have a wife of sense and education, if for no other reason than to give his sons an edge in life. In Madeleine Gardiner he had found much more. The daughter of an actor, she had lead rather a Bohemian lifestyle growing up on the continent with her three older brothers. Although only her father and brothers performed, she could declaim Shakespeare, and played several musical instruments. Her mother had been an English gentlewoman, a daughter of the rector of Lambton, who had eloped with her dashing father, when he came through the village as part of a travelling troupe. She had died abroad when Madeleine was a teenager, leaving the young girl to keep house while the males of the family earned their bread. Her father had retreated to his homeland when war broke out on the continent.

Edward had met her on the docks where she was handing out flyers advertising a play. Along with other artistic refugees from the Continent, Madeleine's family had been living a hand-to-mouth existence. They lived in an old gypsy caravan near the docks. Of course, Madeleine's grandfather had disowned her mother, so no succour was to be found in Lambton. But the rector's death several years ago had made the Lambton visit possible. Her aunt had never married, and now shared a house with another spinster.

As an up-and-coming clerk in a famous trading house, Edward might have looked higher than Madeleine Beaumaris, but he was charmed by her European sophistication, and as his father had passed, was his own man.

As luck would have it, a more senior clerk who had inherited a substantial sum took Edward into partnership in a new business venture on the strength of his trading nous and bookkeeping skills. The business had blossomed, allowing Edward to offer for Madeleine two years after they met. Now ten years later, they owned a house on Gracechurch street, had three energetic children, and could command the elegancies of life.

Of course, Madeleine Gardiner's request to prolong her stay in Hertfordshire had less to do with her wish to extend her holiday than a desire to get to the bottom of her niece's troubles. The children however couldn't have been happier. There had been many undutiful sighs once they got over the initial excitement of seeing their parents. They did not wish to return to London yet, as they were having so much fun with their cousins: collecting frogs with Lydia, and drinking Kitty's ginger beer. Fortified by their kisses, their father set off early in the morning on one of his horses which had been stabled at Longbourn. He would return in a week for his family and his carriage.

After breakfast, Jane and Mr Bingley had set off on a ride together while Madeleine joined Lizzy in her morning ramble. As they left the environs of Longbourn for the track leading to Oakham Mount, Mrs Gardiner made her sally.

"Lizzy, I couldn't help noticing there is something between you and Mr Darcy."

Under her tan Lizzy paled.

"There is nothing, Aunt," she denied.

"He seems to be very taken with you."

"I cannot imagine why," said Lizzy bitterly, drawing further ahead on the narrow track through the trees.

They continued to walk in silence until the path broadened sufficiently to allow Mrs Gardiner to draw abreast with her niece.

"You are not being straight with me Lizzy. Did Mr Darcy offer for you in Kent?"

"Aunt, please don't question me. I can't speak of it."

They had reached Oakham Mount. In the field below, Lizzy could see Mr Bingley and Jane riding side-by-side, with a groom from Longbourn following at a discrete distance.

"Lizzy, I think it would do you good to get it off your chest. I gather you have not even told Jane what occurred, and I am at a loss to understand why. Are you unwilling to marry, and worried that your mother might force you to accept his offer if she discovers it? Give me your confidence dear, I will not betray it."

Lizzy sat down on the grass, hugging her knees.

Her aunt sat beside her.

After some hesitation, Lizzy replied. "He did not ask me to marry him, Aunt. He made an improper offer and I refused him."

Her aunt stiffened. She would not have thought it of Mr Darcy. She knew his uncle was a reprobate who set the ton by its ears with one scandal after another: the Earls of Matlock had always been such. Indeed, she'd heard the Viscount was set to far outdo his father. She'd had to hide a smile when Colonel Fitzwilliam had proffered the excuse of sad news for the Viscount's behaviour. But the Darcys were another matter. There was an old joke in Lambton, that the Darcys were closet Presbyterians. Then again, Mr Darcy's father had died when he was young, so perhaps he had followed in his uncle's footsteps instead...

Lizzy's aunt drew closer, frowning. "What type of improper offer, Lizzy?" she whispered. "Did he touch you? Force you?"

Lizzy stared at the grass in front of her feet. After gaining her courage, she whispered back, "Aunt, he asked me to be his mistress."

"Oh," replied her aunt quietly.

There was a short silence, then her aunt continued.

"But you avoided my question, Lizzy. Did he touch you?"

"Aunt, please do not ask me these questions. I do not wish to be forced to marry him. He is arrogant and does not love me. I will be miserable in such an unequal marriage."

"Lizzy I am only thinking of your own welfare. I do not know what your mother has told you... Is it possible that you could be with child?"

"No, Aunt, no. I am not so ignorant. Mr Darcy merely kissed me and no one saw us."

"Please tell me exactly what happened, dear," pleaded Mrs Gardiner.

Lizzy could see she was cornered. "I was alone at the Parsonage when Mr Darcy came to call. The others had gone to Rosings for dinner, but I was tired because we had beaten the rugs. He offered me a rose; told me that he admired me; said he would look after my mother and sisters when father died... He kissed me, and I thought at first he was asking me to marry him, but then he said he would set me up in a fine house in London with a box at the theatre and opera, and a carriage; and I understood that marriage was not what he meant..."

Lizzy put her head on her knees and began to sob.

Her aunt rubbed her back and waited for her niece to compose herself.

"And then?" prompted her aunt, and when no response was forthcoming, she continued, "you declined his offer?"

"Well..." said Lizzy. "Not exactly..."

"Not exactly?"

"I hit him...with the carpet beater."

"With a carpet beater?" repeated her aunt.

"Yes, I hit him, and I yelled at him, and I chased him out into the rain with the carpet beater, and he jumped the front fence and ran away!"

Her aunt turned away, and when she did not turn back immediately, Lizzy became a little worried. She knew she had overstepped the bounds of decorum when she had lost her temper at Hunsford, so she was not surprised at her aunt's disgust. Grasping her aunt's shoulders, she could feel she was shaking.

"Aunt?" asked Lizzy timidly. "Aunt, are you alright?"

Her aunt turned back towards her. Her face was red and there were tears streaming down it.

"Oh Lizzy!" she said, embracing her niece. "I am so sorry."

Lizzy now realised that her aunt was not crying, but laughing.

Mrs Gardiner caught her breath with a hiccup. "It was terrible of him to insult you so, but you must admit, it is like a Punch and Judy show!"

Now Lizzy was insulted at her aunt's reaction, and her sobs broke into proper crying.

"Oh Lizzy, Lizzy," said her aunt embracing her, "you must forgive me."

She held her niece until she had calmed sufficiently and found her handkerchief.

Once Lizzy had progressed to the stage of a few sniffs, her aunt continued, "but you must admit that it would have looked a sight. He is so tall and you are quite petite: like he was being attacked by a terrier."

Lizzy gave a small laugh.

"I can just imagine what my brother Claude would say," said Mrs Gardiner.

"What?" enquired Lizzy.

"That he would have given a monkey to see it!"

Lizzy gave a small chuckle.

They continued to look out over the surrounding countryside. Mr Bingley and Jane had disappeared from view.

"And was that the last you saw of him in Kent?" asked her aunt.

"No Aunt, I came across him the following morning. He gave me a letter. It was an apology of sorts."

_Of sorts. Obviously not an accepted apology_, thought Aunt Gardiner. "And what did he have to say for himself in that?"

"He said he was sorry...that he felt obligated to offer his hand in marriage..."

"Ah! So he did do the right thing after all!" exclaimed her aunt.

"I do not want a half-hearted husband!" replied Lizzy hotly. "He also said things that indicated that he thought me and my family beneath him."

"Such as..." asked Mrs Gardiner.

"He said he thought Mr Bingley was too good for Jane, and that he'd seen one of the officers alone with one of my sisters..."

"Oh dear, did he say which sister?"

"No," said Lizzy blushing, "but I have attended to the situation." Little did she know that Lydia had attended to the situation also.

"So this is why you did not wish to visit Pemberley," said her aunt quietly.

"Yes, I did not wish to meet him again, particularly on his own property. I was worried he might think I had changed my mind... But I asked the maid at inn, and she assured me that he was not present. So I thought it was the lesser of two evils, to accompany you there, rather than confess what had occurred in Kent."

"I am a little hurt that you did not choose to confide in me. I would have spared you the anxiety of going there had I known."

"I'm sorry Aunt, but I was so embarrassed by what occurred. I couldn't speak of it."

Her aunt grasped her hand. "I understand."

Then she continued, "So what did he say to you in the library?"

Lizzy blushed to the roots of her hair.

"How did you know that we met in the library?" asked Lizzy.

"How could I not have? He gave you the book of poetry. Do you not remember? We were standing at the entrance, looking at the bust of Cicero."

Lizzy blushed again, and looked at her toes. That first meeting in his library had so completely overwhelmed her that she had quite forgotten about the second...

"Ah..." said her aunt, looking at her with narrowed eyes. "You are not talking of that meeting, are you..."

"No Aunt," Lizzy confessed. "I lagged behind when you left the library and Mr Darcy caught me there. It was very embarrassing."

"Oh," said her aunt. "That was why you were so keen to get away when we were leaving after the tour... What did he say to you?"

"Nothing, he asked me to wait while he dressed."

"_While he dressed?_ You didn't run into the man in his nightshirt, did you?"

"No aunt, he came in from outside. I believe he must have been swimming. He was barefoot and oh! It was too embarrassing!"

"Just exactly what was he wearing, Lizzy?" said Aunt Gardiner, trying to imagine Mr Darcy in his birthday suit.

"Just his breeches and a shirt!" said Lizzy reddening.

This didn't sound too embarrassing to Mrs Gardiner, but she reminded herself that her niece had no brothers.

"So then you came back to the music room, and Mr Darcy caught up with us in the vestibule... Well I must say, he managed to spruce himself up in next to no time. I was very impressed with how affable he was, and surprised that he should be so condescending on so short an acquaintance, but it all makes sense now."

Mrs Gardiner lost herself in her thoughts for a few moments before turning again to her niece.

"But what did he say to you the following evening in the library. I must admit I was very curious at the time. I didn't think for a minute that the Colonel had the least interest in statuary. So I believe there was some collusion there."

He asked me if I had read his letter, and apologised again for Hunsford.

"And what did you say in reply?"

"I said I doubted his sincerity."

Mrs Gardiner raised her eyebrows. "And what did he say to that?"

"He said he was trying to be a better person; but that is nonsense, because he had not done a thing to atone."

Now Mrs Gardiner was beginning to think that perhaps it was_ her niece_ who was the closet Presbyterian.

"What do you think he needs to do to atone?"

"I told him he needed to make amends for interfering between Jane and Mr Bingley!" and at this she looked down to see that Jane and her swain were again visible in the fields below.

"Which he has done." replied her aunt, following her eyes.

"Aunt, you surely aren't advocating that I ally myself with such a reprobate?" asked Lizzy astonished.

"Lizzy, I do not think Mr Darcy is a reprobate. He is a rich man, a member of the ton. He would not enter into marriage...unexperienced. Think on it. Many of them do not marry until they are thirty, or older, and only then to beget an heir. They have other avenues open to them. Mr Darcy is still quite young. I would guess around twenty-five."

Lizzy nodded, and her aunt continued.

"Perhaps Mr Darcy himself hadn't planned to marry for several more years. When you caught his fancy, he didn't seek to tryst with you, he sought to engage you in a more permanent arrangement based on a perceived indifference in your stations."

Lizzy didn't like the direction this conversation was taking. She believed her aunt wished to exculpate Mr Darcy, and she sought to protest.

Her aunt held up her hand, "Lizzy, you did the right thing, the moral thing, in rejecting his offer. I merely wished you to understand the social milieu that he comes from, to suggest that he made a false step based on commonplace behaviours in his set."

When Lizzy did not reply, her aunt continued.

"I believe he is considerably taken with you. The fact that he has continued to pursue you shows that his heart is engaged. I watched him carefully at Pemberley, he exerted himself considerably on your behalf."

"How could I ever become his wife after such a mortifying incident?"

"We all make mistakes, Lizzy. That is the nature of grace: to forgive. I believe in your head you are still hitting him over the head with that carpet beater. Put it down."

Lizzy was feeling mulish, and sought to end the tête-à-tête by standing. She held out her hand to help her aunt rise, and they walked silently together back to Longbourn.

Mrs Gardiner had much to think on. Clearly her niece was not indifferent to Mr Darcy. Her blushes were testament to that. Definitely her pride had been wounded. Still, if Mr Darcy was going the way of the Viscount, she would be doing her niece a great disservice by encouraging her to reconsider his suit. Mrs Gardiner resolved to write to her aunt in Lambton and get a second opinion on Mr Darcy's character.


	40. Chapter 40

The remainder of Mrs Gardiner's stay in Hertfordshire was less eventful. She wrote to her aunt, but directed her to send her reply to Gracechurch street. For the most part, Mrs Gardiner kept a close watch over Lizzy, ready to support her spirits or receive any further confidence; but her niece kept her own counsel. Her spirits were not depressed, but neither was she the buoyant Lizzy of old.

Life at Longbourn had continued in the travellers' absence. Kitty had done a creditable job fulfilling some extra orders for Mr Jones. He, in turn, had helped her with her ginger beer. Mr Bennet's dire predictions regarding the volatility of the brew proved accurate: around half of the bottles of the original batch exploded. But Mr Jones gave Kitty some advice before she brewed the second batch which resulted in the loss of only a single bottle. Mary had proved so adept at keeping the estate ledgers that upon checking them, Elizabeth found only a single error, and that turned out to be down to Mr Bennet. Now she had found her niche, Mary did not wish to surrender the duty to Elizabeth, and it was agreed she would merely do a double check once a month. Mrs Gardiner was pleased that her younger nieces, or at least two of them, were being more productive. She was not sure that Lydia's frog collecting constituted useful work, although it helped to entertain her children.

Mr Bingley had opened up Netherfield once more, Upon his unexpected arrival Mrs Fletcher was glad to tell the master she had three couple of ducks just fit to be killed and went off to the butcher's to order in some meat on Wednesday.

He rode to Longbourn every morning and spent the bulk of his time with the sisters in the garden, usually tending to one corner of it with Jane while the other sisters and the Gardiner children kept them company from a distance.

In addition to his daily visits, Mrs Bennet importuned Mr Bingley to join them at Longbourn for dinner.

"You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr Bingley," she added, "for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement."

Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of his concern at having been prevented by business.

Her invitation was accepted with alacrity for the day after the departure of the Gardiners. For Mr Bingley hoped that on this day the house would have finally quietened down sufficiently that he might attend to the business which had originally bought him thither. He came, and in such very good time that the ladies were none of them dressed. In ran Mrs Bennet to her daughter's room, in her dressing gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out:

"My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come—Mr Bingley is come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind Miss Lizzy's hair."

"We will be down as soon as we can," said Jane; "but I dare say Kitty is forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairs half an hour ago."

"Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come be quick, be quick! Where is your sash, my dear?"

But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to go down without one of her sisters.

The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again in the evening. After tea, Mr Bennet retired to the library, as was his custom, and Mary went up stairs to her instrument. Two obstacles of the five being thus removed, Mrs Bennet sat looking and winking at Elizabeth and Catherine for a considerable time, without making any impression on them. Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last Kitty did, she very innocently said, "What is the matter mamma? What do you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?"

"Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you." She then sat still five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious occasion, she suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty, "Come here, my love, I want to speak to you," took her out of the room. Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such premeditation, and her entreaty that she would not give in to it. In a few minutes, Mrs Bennet half-opened the door and called out:

"Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you."

Elizabeth was forced to go.

"We may as well leave them by themselves you know;" said her mother, as soon as she was in the hall. "The younger girls and I are going up stairs to sit in my dressing-room."

Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but remained quietly in the hall, sitting down at the secretaire to complete a letter to Charlotte.

But on returning to the drawing-room, when her letter was finished, she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was reason to fear that her mother had been too ingenious for her. On opening the door, she perceived her sister and Bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion, the faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away from each other, would have told it all. Their situation was awkward enough; but hers she thought was still worse. Not a syllable was uttered by either; and Elizabeth was on the point of going away again, when Bingley, who as well as the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and whispering a few words to her sister, ran out of the room.

Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence would give pleasure; and instantly embracing her, acknowledged, with the liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creature in the world.

"'Tis too much!" she added, "by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! why is not everybody as happy?"

Elizabeth's congratulations were given with a sincerity, a warmth, a delight, which words could but poorly express. Every sentence of kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane. But she would not allow herself to stay with her sister, or say half that remained to be said for the present.

"I must go instantly to mother;" she cried. "I would not on any account trifle with her affectionate solicitude; or allow her to hear it from anyone but myself. He is gone to father already. Oh! Lizzy, to know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear family! how shall I bear so much happiness!"

She then hastened away to her mother, who was sitting up stairs with Kitty and Lydia.

Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the rapidity and ease with which an affair was finally settled, that had given them so many previous months of suspense and vexation.

"And this," said she, "is the end of all his friend's anxious circumspection! of all his sister's falsehood and contrivance! the happiest, wisest, most reasonable end!"

In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose conference with her father had been short and to the purpose.

"Where is your sister?" said he hastily, as he opened the door.

"With my mother up stairs. She will be down in a moment, I dare say."

He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good wishes and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and heartily expressed her delight in the prospect of their relationship. They shook hands with great cordiality; and then, till her sister came down, she had to listen to all he had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane's perfections; and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed all his expectations of felicity to be rationally founded, because they had for basis the excellent understanding, and super-excellent disposition of Jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste between her and himself.

It was an evening of no common delight to them all; the satisfaction of Miss Bennet's mind gave a glow of such sweet animation to her face, as made her look handsomer than ever. Kitty simpered and Lydia smiled, and hoped their turn was coming soon. Mrs Bennet could not give her consent or speak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings, though she talked to Bingley of nothing else for half an hour; and when Mr Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly showed how really happy he was.

Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till their visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon as he was gone, he turned to his daughter, and said:

"Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman."

Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his goodness.

"You are a good girl;" he replied, "and I have great pleasure in thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will always exceed your income."

"I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be unpardonable in me."

"Exceed their income! My dear Mr Bennet," cried his wife, "what are you talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely more." Then addressing her daughter, "Oh! my dear, dear Jane, I am so happy! I am sure I shan't get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was that you should come together. Oh! he is the handsomest young man that ever was seen!"

"Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at Longbourn; coming frequently before breakfast, and always remaining till after supper.

"He has made me so happy," said she, one evening, "by telling me that he was totally ignorant of my being in town last spring! I had not believed it possible."

"I suspected as much," replied Elizabeth. "But how did he account for it?"

"It must have been his sisters' doing. I am certain Caroline said Vienna! They were certainly no friends to his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might have chosen so much more advantageously in many respects. But when they see, as I trust they will, that their brother is happy with me, they will learn to be contented, and we shall be on good terms again; though we can never be what we once were to each other."

"That is the most unforgiving speech," said Elizabeth, "that I ever heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you again the dupe of Miss Bingley's pretended regard."

"Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last November, he really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of my being indifferent would have prevented his coming down again!"

"He made a little mistake to be sure; but it is to the credit of his modesty."

This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his diffidence, and the little value he put on his own good qualities. Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not betrayed the interference of his friend; for, though Jane had the most generous and forgiving heart in the world, she knew it was a circumstance which must prejudice her against him.

"I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!" cried Jane. "Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed above them all! If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!"

"If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness."


	41. Chapter 41

The week following Lizzy's arrival back in Hertfordshire had been one of the busiest of her life. She'd arrived home to find that the large amount of the willow bark preparation she produced before leaving was almost consumed. _What were the people of Meryton doing with this stuff, drinking it?_

Kitty had decanted the last of it into the small bottles provided by Mr Jones. Lizzy was going to have to produce a new batch. She had lit the fire under the distillation apparatus to start this brewing while she chopped the herbs that were required for a different prescription involving digitalis. Mr Jones had not wished to entrust this to Kitty because of the potential toxicity. Indeed it had to be chopped without touching it with the skin. After grinding this to a paste and safely storing it in a jar, she cleaned the utensils she had used.

The willow bark preparation was happily bubbling away and Kitty had come to view its progress. They settled it between them to keep an eye on it, so that Lizzy could spend some time with her young cousins who wanted to play a game of hide and seek in the garden. Kitty had searched the garden so frequently she had exhausted all her cousins' novel hiding places and was reduced to wandering around aimlessly before flushing them out, acting surprised.

The following day Mr Jones arrived to pick up the remaining bottles of willow bark and the digitalis compound. He explained that a physician in Luton had recently started ordering the willow bark preparation after talking to Dr Gregory. Mr Jones brought several bunches of flowers with him as a form of barter since, in accordance with her sister Jane's notions of the proper deportment of a gentlewoman, Lizzy was not allowed to accept currency for her endeavours. These were gratefully accepted and disposed around the parlour, providing a heady backdrop to Mr Bingley's wooing of Jane. Mr Bennet asked if there had been a death in the family, and took his tea away to drink in the library.

Thus a week passed quickly away and Mr Gardiner arrived to retrieve his family and his carriage. After lunch, Lizzy kissed her aunt goodbye, grateful for the solicitude which had allowed her to unburden her heart, but also relieved that she could now try to forget about the whole ordeal. The children piled into the carriage and they were off.

The following day Lizzy had the felicity of finally seeing her sister engaged to Mr Bingley and she went to bed content for her sister.

The weather was inclement the following day, preventing Lizzy from taking her usual ramble. After taking a turn in the garden, Lizzy retreated to the house when it began to drizzle. She had been so busy during the week that she had not yet completely unpacked her carpetbag, so she set about emptying this, so that she could return it to the closet. She was slightly puzzled when her hand closed upon a book, and completely mortified when she pulled it out to discover that it was the book of Wordsworth's poems that had been loaned to her by Mr Darcy. _How had it come there?_ She had never intended that it leave Derbyshire. The last she could remember was setting it down next to her reticule at the inn on the night he had given it to her, so that she could return it on the morrow. Could she have unthinkingly stowed it in her bag after breakfast, when they discovered that they needed to return to London the following day? Perhaps Jane or Aunt Gardiner had put it there?

She picked up the volume and walked towards the light of the window. It was a leather bound and handsomely tooled edition, the second volume of a set. Opening the flyleaf she saw his name inscribed there in a firm but flowing script: Fitzwilliam Darcy, August 1811. So he had purchased it just before he had come to Netherfield. Sitting in the window seat, she balanced the book in her hands, and it fell open at a poem entitled simply "7." She began to read:-

_"I wandered lonely as a cloud..."_

Her eyes skimmed the page and she found herself not registering the words at all, but instead imagining Mr Darcy holding the book with his head bent over it. His hair was long and unkempt, as she had seen it when he walked into the library: a curly lock dangled over his patrician nose, softening it.

Breaking from this reverie, she focused on the last stanza

_"For oft when on my couch I lie_

_In vacant or in pensive mood,_

_They flash upon that inward eye_

_Which is the bliss of solitude,_

_And then my heart with pleasure fills..."_

And for some reason her mind had now fixated on that bull neck, no longer concealed by that damned cravat, and she watched his Adam's apple dance up and down as he spoke...

Wrenching herself from this daydream she read the last line

_"And dances with the Daffodils."_

_What!? Who reads this stuff? Does **he** read this stuff?_

Somewhat bemused she set the book down on a side table. A folded sheet of paper fell to the floor.

She picked it up reflexively and unfolded it,

_Dearest Georgiana,_

_I hope this letter finds you and Mrs Annersley well, and that your spirits are recovering. We have been at Netherfield for a week now. Bingley dragged me to a local ball several days ago, even though he knows that loud music gives me headaches. It was very awkward. We knew almost no one but our own party, but this didn't bother Bingley in the slightest, and no doubt he would have danced with every lady in the room if he had not encountered the very same lady we met several weeks ago who was injured in the carriage accident._

_This lady and her sister, who I mentioned in my previous letter, are currently staying here as guests. The elder sister became ill after coming to dine with Bingley's sisters. Bingley is so happy with the circumstance I almost suspect him of having arranged it. I am joking, of course. She is the local beauty with guinea gold hair and cornflower blue eyes: the sort of lady that always has him in raptures. You know how silly he can be, as you always tease him when just such a lady walks past. The younger sister is, to my mind, the prettier, though in a less flashy way than her elder sibling. She has dark chestnut locks which remind me a little of mother, and fine dark eyes which sometimes seem to sparkle._

_They both seem very kind and are just the sort of ladies who would make good friends for you, my dear. The younger one is a bit of a blue stocking. As I already told you, she plays chess and reads Plato; and I even caught her reading a book on blood letting the other day! However, she has a lively sense of humour, and she looks after her sister most carefully, making tisanes, sitting by her and reading to her to keep her entertained. She even walked three miles after the rain to attend her sister when she heard she was ill._

Lizzy turned the sheet over but that was all. The letter was clearly not finished, nor signed; and she could only assume that he had started and then forgotten about it.

She was a little puzzled by its contents, which seemed at odds with her recollection of the haughty Mr Darcy from that period. Had he not called her the veriest hoyden?

She then began to think that perhaps his opinion of her had changed suddenly for the worse for some reason. Had she done something that had particularly disgusted him? She could think of nothing, but had not her mother got upset with her before for behaviours which Lizzy had thought perfectly innocuous, such as reading books on blood letting? Of course, there was a hint of disapproval in the comment he'd made about blue stockings embedded in the subsequent 'however'. She'd never categorised Mr Darcy with the majority of men who disapproved of the education of women before. Perhaps that was the source of his subsequent disgust?

She felt a little embarrassed at reading his private correspondence, particularly since it contained praise of herself, faint though it was. She wondered briefly what she should do with it. Should she dispose of it? It seemed wrong to destroy his property. But if she gave him the book back with the letter intact, he might realise that she had read it. And exactly how should she return the book? Perhaps she could entrust it to Mr Bingley?

However, before she could even think of asking that gentlemen as a go-between, he was off to London, leaving Mrs Bennet in a state of trepidation. What if he should leave poor Jane alone again, like he did last winter?

Fortunately, he returned within a week with a large sapphire engagement ring for Jane's hand, which, he claimed, matched her eyes. This palpable measure of his troth relieved all Mrs Bennet's fears, for the trip to London proved to be far from the last.

For the next weeks Bingley wore a rut in the road between Hertfordshire and London: talking to investors to raise money for an expansion of the Yorkshire business; divesting himself of several pecuniary interests he had in London; and being abused by his younger elder sister. Caroline insisted he give up the Yorkshire scheme and honour his father's wishes of purchasing an estate, just as long as it wasn't somewhere boring like Hertfordshire.

Elizabeth often walked out with Mr Bingley and Jane to act as a chaperone, though she hardly thought it necessary. During one of these walks it occurred to her to ask him of something which had long puzzled her.

"Mr Bingley I have often wondered how you came to meet Mr Darcy. I thought at first that it might have been at university, but I believe you went to Oxford, whereas Mr Darcy went to Cambridge."

"You are correct, Miss Elizabeth. It was during my university days. A group of my friends challenged some Cantabrigians to a rowing race on the Thames. I was drafted onto the team and we acquitted ourselves creditably, winning by a good boat length."

"And was Mr Darcy of their team?" asked Elizabeth.

"Heavens, no! Darcy's never been one for team sports," said Bingley astonished.

Miss Elizabeth thought this was consistent with what she knew of the man.

"Well," Bingley said, resuming his story. "Our team went out to celebrate afterwards. I was on my way home with my friend Tom Reeve, who was..." Here he coughed and smiled, "rather the worse for wear..."

Miss Elizabeth smiled her understanding.

"Well, three of their team encountered us as we were leaving Boodles and set upon us. Tom's father was a Cit and you know mine was in trade. I really feared for our lives, because Tom was in quite a useless condition. Fortunately, Darcy had just stepped out of Whites. He yelled for the Watch, who never seem to be around when you need them; and then came over and ordered them to desist."

The Bennet sisters were all ears.

"Well, you should have seen their faces. It is quite funny in retrospect. They looked at each other, wondering who he was, and why he thought they should pay the least attention to him. Darcy attended Trinity and they were not of that college. So one of them took a swing at him and Darcy floored him quite easily. He spars at Jackson's Boxing Saloon and has the reach, you know... Then the other two went to rush him, but Darcy stepped back and unsheathed his sword stick..."

"He carried a sword stick?" blurted Miss Elizabeth.

"Why yes, of course," said Bingley, bemused. "He always does. It is in that walking stick that he carries about."

"Good heavens!" said Jane, aghast at this new, violent perspective of Mr Darcy. "I thought it merely a walking stick."

"Well I must admit, it is a trifle old fashioned of him to carry it round, but it was his father's; and I do believe he has had need to use it on other occasions..." said Bingley.

"But pray, continue your story, Mr Bingley," prompted Miss Elizabeth. "He unsheathed his sword stick..."

"Oh well, that is the end, you know," said Bingley, quite anticlimactically. "The Watch came up and dragged those fellows off; and Darcy hailed a hackney and took Tom and I back to his townhouse, where Mrs Flowers patched us up."

"And you have been friends ever since?" asked Miss Elizabeth.

"Basically, yes!" replied Mr Bingley cheerfully.

The sisters mulled over these revelations as they walked on.

Mr Bingley, suddenly becoming aware of the silence, blushed and said apologetically, "Perhaps there were parts of that story, that were not appropriate for female ears."

_Or most of it! _thought Elizabeth bemusedly, but the words she said were, "Think nothing of it, Mr Bingley. After all, we are almost family!"

They all chuckled and continued their walk.

That night, Elizabeth had some trouble going to sleep as she pondered the day's discordant revelations of Mr Darcy which seemed at odds with the picture she had drawn of him as a selfish, arrogant rake. His letter painted him as a rather sweet man who was devoted to his sister; and his intervention on Mr Bingley's behalf as a selfless hero; so why had he not intervened on Lydia's behalf at the Netherfield ball? It occurred to her that Mr Darcy's unsociable, taciturn disposition might be a manifestation of shyness, that perhaps he was uncomfortable with women...

As she was dropping off, the thought slid into her mind that with no brothers and a distant father, that she, also, knew little of the ways of men...


	42. Chapter 42

Towards the end of August the banns were finally announced for the first time in Longbourn church, and Mrs Bennet went into determined planning mode for her eldest daughter's nuptials. Mrs Gardiner was requested to send silks for the trousseau: Jane's status as the future Mrs Bingley demanded her day gowns be silk; after all, she must dress as fine as her new sisters. Mrs Gardiner also engaged to send, as a wedding gift, items of intimate apparel. The silks arrived within the week along with several fashion magazines. A blue silk was chosen for the wedding gown, and despite Jane's weak protests, Mrs Bennet did not stint on lace. Mr Bennet dolefully put off the purchase of several new volumes for his library to fund this spree.

Jane asked her sister to stand up with her as bridesmaid, a request that filled Elizabeth with dread, until polite enquiries revealed that Mr Darcy had declined his friend's application to stand up with him, citing important business in Derbyshire. Unfortunately, Mr Bingley's second choice of groomsman, his brother-in-law Mr Hurst, was also denied him, as the Bingley sisters had been invited to a house party at Badminton which they immediately accepted. Charles was advised by his sisters to reschedule his wedding to avoid a clash, which he steadfastly refused to do. In the end Dr Gregory stepped into the breech, declaring himself honoured to be the best man.

The question of where exactly the married couple would live had not been broached. Perhaps the engaged couple had not themselves yet decided. It was not clear to Elizabeth whether Mr Bingley would be an active partner in the Yorkshire business, or whether he meant to be involved from a distance, settling in London or Hertfordshire. Two weeks later Mariah arrived on their doorstep with crucial gossip.

"Have you heard?" she said, bursting into Longbourn's parlour with Kitty and Lydia, "the Yardleys have finally sold Netherfield!"

"I knew it!" said Mrs Bennet, "Mr Bingley has taken the option to purchase it for our dear Jane."

Jane expressed her opinion that this was unlikely, she merely knew that Mr Bingley had pledged they would spend the first fortnight of their marriage at Netherfield so she could be near her family. The second fortnight would be spent in London at the Darcy townhouse, a wedding gift from Mr Darcy to his friend. Charles claimed it was an apology for not being able to attend the actual ceremony. The newly weds hoped to attend the opera and the theatre. Charles was keen to be seen in public with his beautiful new bride.

Mariah was unable to shed any light on the purchaser, but some more information was forthcoming when Dr Gregory turned up the following day. He carried a bunch of flowers, ostensibly for Mrs Bennet, and was quite dismayed upon reaching the threshold to see the parlour was already full of blooms.

"Ah!" said Mr Bennet, who was exiting with a cup of tea. "I gather you are also attending the funeral."

Dr Gregory looked quite alarmed and quietly expressed his condolences, at which Mr Bennet laughed and walked away.

Upon his entering the parlour, several of the sisters looked up from yards of silk to smile, and Elizabeth told him not to mind their father.

"He is just sore because we spent his book money on silks," said Lydia.

"And he does not like flowers," said Kitty, "because they make him sneeze."

Dr Gregory jokingly hid the bouquet he was holding behind his back before presenting it to Mrs Bennet.

"Are all these bouquets in honour of your daughter's engagement?" he asked. Such had not been the custom in Scotland.

"Oh, no, no!" laughed Mrs Bennet, glad to have her favourite subject mentioned. "Mr Jones bought them in return for all the potions that Lizzy is brewing."

Lizzy was astonished that her mother could mention her occupation with equanimity, as she had previously expressed the opinion that Lizzy had become the local witch.

"Oh dear," said Dr Gregory, "I think we had better think of some more inventive form of recompense," he said, carefully avoiding the word _payment_.

"Will you take tea, Dr Gregory?" asked Mrs Bennet.

"Gladly," replied Dr Gregory, taking one of the few vacant chairs that was not covered with the detritus of dress-making.

This surprised Lizzy. Dr Gregory was generally too busy to sit down to take tea: he usually gulped it standing up; or sipped it at his desk while he attended to other matters.

Lydia smiled, and put down her needle.

"There will be time enough to rest when the tea arrives, Lydia," remarked Mary.

Lydia frowned, and picked up her needle.

Hill duly arrived with the tea, and after all manner of small talk on Jane's wedding, Dr Gregory stated his purpose.

"Miss Elizabeth, would you care for a turn in the garden?"

Lizzy put down her stitching, and nodded her acquiescence.

Lydia jumped up with glee. "I'll go too!", she said, declaring herself chaperone.

Kitty put down her needle also, to be met with "Lydia is enough," from Mary.

As they stepped into the afternoon sunshine, Lydia ran for the swing; and Dr Gregory offered his arm to Elizabeth before heading to the rose garden.

"We miss you at the infirmary, Miss Elizabeth," he ventured.

"I miss my time there too, Dr Gregory," Elizabeth affirmed.

He stopped and turned to her, grasping both her gloved hands. "I have some very exciting news, Miss Elizabeth. I have secured a major patron and hope to soon open a larger hospital."

"Dr Gregory, that is wonderful!" replied Elizabeth. "Will you be expanding your current establishment?"

"No, that will remain as a fever hospital. But I have managed to secure Netherfield for the new hospital."

"Netherfield!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "So _you_ are the purchaser!"

"No, Miss Elizabeth, my patron is the purchaser, but I have signed a lease which will give us the use of the building for the next ten years for a peppercorn rent. He has donated a substantial sum for the fit out of the building. So all I need to do now," he smiled, "is run the business within budget, and as a Scotsman, Miss Bennet, I believe I can do that."

"Goodness," said Elizabeth, "you will be run off your feet!"

"Indeed, I will be busy, but I am searching for a junior partner from Edinburgh as we speak. There is only one thing more that I need to make this enterprise a success..."

"And what is that?" asked Elizabeth.

"You, Miss Bennet."

"Me?"

"Will you come to oversee the operation? Take on a role similar to that which you occupied at the infirmary?"

"But what of..." _your wife_, thought Lizzy, but said, "the previous objections?"

"Well..." said Dr Gregory, dropping Lizzy's hands and pacing forward with his hands clasped behind his back. "I have spoken to Amanda, and she agrees that her previous objections were silly."

He turned to look at her.

"Well..." said Lizzy, smiling and looking at the ground, before tilting her head up again, grinning. "Then gladly, I will."

* * *

><p>Looking through the window of his study, Mr Bennet was bemused. If Dr Gregory was not already spoken for, he would have sworn that Lizzy had just received a proposal of marriage. But all was explained over dinner.<p>

Later when Lizzy brought his tea to the study, Mr Bennet joked about it.

"Well, well... Lizzy, I'm glad you set my mind at rest during dinner, I was a little worried when I saw you in the garden today. I thought Dr Gregory might have been making an improper proposal!"

Lizzy blushed scarlet and was unable to form a reply, which surprised her father a little.

"Now, now, my dear, no need to be missish. I was only joking! I am sure Dr Gregory would never do such a thing!"

Lizzy put down the cup, nodded, and retreated quickly.

Mr Bennet was glad the awkward moment was over. Pouring a little brandy into his tea, he picked it up and chuckled to himself. He would like to see the fellow who had the temerity to ask his spirited daughter such! She would hit him with the first object to hand!


	43. Chapter 43

The day of Jane's wedding finally dawned. The sisters had been up since cock crow preparing themselves and Jane for the wedding at eleven. Jane looked radiant in her blue gown, which was fashioned similar to a court dress. Lizzy also looked a dream in a much simpler blue gauze dress over an ivory slip. All the sisters helped to ensure Jane's skirts were kept clear of the dirt as they walked the short distance through the village to the church. Behind them Mrs Bennet, wearing the most incredible hat, gave frantic last minute instructions to Hill before heading to the church with her husband and the Gardiners for the eleven o'clock ceremony. Little Gardiners in their Sunday best skipped alongside, except little Tommy, who at two, could not be trusted to keep his clothes clean, and was carried like a parcel by his father.

* * *

><p>A little earlier at Netherfield, Bingley's nervous preparations had been interrupted when the Darcy carriage appeared in the drive. Abandoning his valet in his shirt sleeves, Bingley bounded down the stairs, and launched himself out the front door as the carriage steps were let down by the footman, grabbing Darcy in a bear hug as he emerged.<p>

"Darcy, Darcy! You made it after all!" he laughed.

This reception somewhat disconcerted Darcy, but he bore it well enough, supposing Bingley subject to wedding day jitters.

Inside the carriage, Georgiana was glad she had twisted her brother's arm to come after all. She had first managed to convince him to go to London. He had urgent business there, which he appeared to be avoiding. When another entreaty had arrived from his solicitor, Georgiana had declared herself desperately in need of new dresses. Indeed, her pin money had been piling up during her post-Ramsgate apathy.

When they had arrived in Bedfordshire on the previous day, Georgiana had claimed an indisposition, and Darcy, anxious for his little sister, had diverted to Luton Hoo, calling upon an open invitation from Lady Louisa Stuart.

* * *

><p>Upon their arrival at the grand estate, Lady Louisa had expressed delight that Darcy had finally found time to visit her home in between dashing between London and Derbyshire. She spent the afternoon having tea and walking around the grounds with him while Georgiana lay down in one of the guest rooms. Despite saying many witty things, very few of these received more than a small smile from Darcy, and she noted that he had become even more withdrawn and taciturn than than he had been during his awkward teenage years.<p>

She was a little sad for her friend's son. His mother had died so tragically. When she had met him at balls with his cousin Richard over the last few years, he had seemed happy and almost normal, and she had thought him well on the way to turning into the handsome and charming man she had imagined when she had met him as a little boy. He had been an exceedingly pretty child, with riotous black locks, and large and expressive eyes; but a little shy, always within orbit of his mother.

But now he seemed to be reverting to his former taciturn self. Perhaps his cousin's influence only lasted as long as he was in the vicinity. _Such a shame._ The man she had met during the season almost two years ago had only wanted a little more liveliness to turn him into a complete Prince Charming.

Georgiana recovered sufficiently to take dinner with Lady Louisa and her brother. Over dessert, she suddenly remembered Bingley's wedding, and asked her brother if his friend might not be on his honeymoon now. Darcy replied that the ceremony was on the morrow.

"Tomorrow, Brother?" exclaimed Georgiana. "But we must only be five miles away! Could we not attend after all? It seems a shame not to, when we are so close."

Darcy was frankly suspicious, but agreed it would be churlish not to attend in the circumstances.

So at cockcrow they were off, leaving behind a bemused Lady Louisa. She picked up the latest manuscript from her friend Walter Scott and began to annotate it, but her mind was still partially with the Darcys. She thought the sister reminded her much of her father George Darcy, and, if so, she was well on the way to becoming a rather formidable lady.

* * *

><p>Entering Netherfield, Darcy urged Bingley back into the arms of his valet, wondering where the hell Gregory was.<p>

Upon enquiring, Darcy was informed that a note had arrived from Dr Gregory stating that Sophia Well's baby was a little early, and he must attend her lying in. When Darcy discovered that Hurst and Bingley's sisters had also forsaken their brother in favour of Badminton, he was indignant on Bingley's behalf, and then mortified in turn, when he realised he had almost done the same himself. He silently thanked his sister for her machinations.

Darcy and Georgiana quickly spruced themselves up, while Bingley's valet finished his preparations. When they reconvened in the vestibule, Dr Gregory had still not arrived, and Bingley begged his friend to stand up with him should the good doctor fail. Darcy considered himself underdressed for the occasion but reluctantly agreed.

They all headed off together in the Darcy carriage, having sent word to the stables that Bingley's new carriage would not be needed until the afternoon. They arrived at the church in good time to find no evidence of Dr Gregory; but the rector was not fazed, saying that babies choose their own time to enter the world.

The Bennet party had only just entered the churchyard when Dr Gregory drew up in his new Tilbury. Tossing a coin to a village boy who had been waiting near the front gate for just such an event, he ran into the church.

Seeing Dr Gregory enter the church, Darcy whispered good luck to Bingley and joined his sister in the front pew on the groom's side. Dr Gregory gave him a respectful nod as he took his place, and Darcy vouchsafed a solemn one in return. The three front pews on either side of the church had been decorated with posies to reserve them for the bridal party. Bingley could only be glad of the villagers who had crowded into the pews behind for obscuring the fact that the groom's pews were woefully empty. He had gratefully directed Sir William Lucas and his family into the rows behind Darcy and Georgiana when they had arrived from Meryton.

The Bennet ladies and the Gardiners entered soon after Dr Gregory, and after Mrs Bennet exchanged numerous glances left and right with the illuminati of Meryton from underneath her enormous hat, she joined her sister Mrs Phillips in the foremost pew, while the Gardiners filed into the seats behind. Kitty and Lydia sat directly across from Mariah Lucas and exchanged giggles. Mary took her place at the piano, and little Johnny Lucas stood up beside her with his violin.

Mary began Bach's Air on a G string, and the congregation slewed round as the bride entered on Mr Bennet's arm, looking regal and radiant. Bingley beamed. Miss Elizabeth followed behind, holding her sister's cream lace train, and looking thin and sophisticated in her more modern gown. As she reached the front pews, she started when she recognised Mr Darcy and his sister in the front row. Georgiana gave her an encouraging smile, but Mr Darcy stared straight ahead without acknowledging her.

It was a short aisle, and Mary improvised an ending to the wedding march with a flourish as Jane knelt on the cushion beside Mr Bingley. Lizzy artfully arranged the train at her sister's feet. Standing up, off to one side, Lizzy smiled at Dr Gregory who stood in an equivalent position on Bingley's left. He returned her smile with a broad grin of his own.

Behind him, having noticed the brief exchange between Elizabeth and Douglas Gregory, Darcy closed his eyes briefly. He felt physical pain. _Would it be the two of them next?_

The priest raised his hands. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

Darcy sat there, not registering a word, as he gazed on Miss Elizabeth's slim form standing there holding her sister's bouquet. A well of self-loathing bubbled up inside him. But for his own arrogance, he might have been standing there now beside her, hearing the priest say his name.

Georgiana could feel the tension radiating from her brother and was at a loss to understand its source. She had thought coming here would be a good thing, allowing him to pursue Miss Elizabeth, who he was obviously much taken with. She knew that Miss Elizabeth had refused him once, but they seemed to be making some progress at Pemberley. As she watched the muscle tic in his jaw, she was almost frightened: she had not seen him so enraged since Ramsgate. As she stared at him, he turned to look at her, and his anger seemed to dissolve into sadness. He grasped her hand and she gave it a squeeze.

Once the couple were pronounced man and wife, Mary restarted the Bach air as the bridal party moved into the registry. Several minutes later Bingley emerged triumphant with his new bride, and the congregation rose to wish them well as they headed back down the aisle, and into the sunshine. Jane had caught up her train over her left arm as she clasped her husband's elbow with her right. Lizzy followed on Dr Gregory's arm holding her sister's bouquet. Darcy held his sister back while the pews emptied.

Outside the church the bouquet was handed back to the bride and duly thrown into the air. It was fielded athletically by Lydia who scrambled up her sister Kitty's back and snatched the blooms from her sister's grasp before her fingers could close on the stems. There were howls of protest from an indignant Kitty, but the villagers laughed and declared Lydia a worthy winner.

When Mr Darcy emerged from the church with his sister he was chagrined to find that the crowd had dispersed and Miss Elizabeth was waiting at the front gate. Dr Gregory was nowhere in sight.

"Miss Elizabeth!" said Darcy. "Where is Dr Gregory?"

"He had just delivered a baby before arriving at the ceremony and has gone off in his Tilbury to check on the mother before returning for the wedding breakfast."

Georgiana curtsied. "How nice to see you again, Miss Elizabeth. Longbourn is such a pretty village!"

"It is, is it not?" replied Miss Elizabeth, returning the curtsey. "I hope you and your brother will join us at the reception? I noticed you brought your carriage, and was afraid you might slip off to London if I did not wait."

Darcy had indeed been thinking of doing just that, although it was hardly polite to Bingley, and he had no idea how to square it with his sister. But looking at Miss Elizabeth in her blue gown, it occurred to him that his carriage was handily placed for an elopement, or more accurately, an abduction. Miss Elizabeth was quite alone, and he was sure he could easily throw her over his shoulder. There was, of course, the impediment of his sister.

"Certainly, Miss Elizabeth," he said, offering his arm. "I'm sure we can spare half an hour."

He nodded to his coachman to indicate he would walk. Miss Elizabeth took his arm without hesitation and Georgiana happily attached herself to his other side.

* * *

><p><strong>Lady Louisa Stuart was a real person. I have put a link to her Wikipedia page on my profile along with the Via Luton resources. The brief biography I read indicated she spent her time mostly in her home in Grosvenor square rather than at Luton Hoo, which I have also referenced on my profile. Luton Hoo is now a hotel.<strong>

**For an example of Lydia's athleticism, please watch the video Great Australian Rules Marks via the link on my profile**


	44. Chapter 44

As the three started from the churchyard for the short walk to Longbourn, Elizabeth spoke.

"On behalf of my sister, thank you for attending the wedding, Mr Darcy. Mr Bingley was adamant you would not come, but I knew you would not fail him."

_Oh, how she knows how to make me feel like a crumb_, thought Darcy.

He glanced at his sister who was suppressing a smirk, and would not meet his eye.

"It was a pleasure, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy replied.

"You may call me Miss Bennet now, Mr Darcy," she replied, referring to her accession to this title upon her sister's marriage.

_But I would prefer to call you Elizabeth_, thought Darcy, _or Sweetcakes..., or Petal... No_, Darcy decided, _Petals didn't wield sticks..._

* * *

><p>"Is that alright, Brother?" asked Georgiana, interrupting his reverie.<p>

They had somehow reached the back garden of Longbourn.

"Pardon?" he replied.

"Miss Elizabeth would like to introduce me to her other sisters..." repeated Georgiana.

"Of course," he replied, and the two women who meant the most to him in the world hurried off and left him standing alone.

He stood there contemplating his loneliness for several minutes, until he remembered Miss Elizabeth's admonition that he was haughty and unsociable; so he determinedly set about talking to the local populace. He endured Sir William Lucas's toad-eating, Mrs Phillip's vacuous nothings on fashion, and Mrs Long's gossip, before finding himself beside Mr Bennet. He managed to have quite a painless and intelligent conversation with this gentleman about public education for an hour, before the bride's father was pulled away to make a speech. During his social torture, Darcy glanced around occasionally trying to spot Miss Elizabeth, or even her companion Dr Gregory, but he could see neither of them.

* * *

><p>After the initial shock of finding Mr Darcy in the church, Elizabeth had accepted his presence with equanimity and focused on the ceremony. She was so happy for her sister, who glowed with joy: happy that she had found a man worthy of her; who appeared devoted to her; who had braved the disapproval of his family to pursue her.<p>

She had been incredulous when Mr Bingley had finally admitted a week ago that his sisters and brother-in-law were unable to attend the ceremony. At that stage she had already been aware that Mr Darcy would not attend. She knew not whether he withheld himself from rubbing shoulders with the _hoi polloi_; or whether embarrassment of their own past dealings influenced his decision. If it was the latter she was regretful, she would not wish their own sorry history to interfere with her sister's happiness, or that of her husband.

She was grateful that Mr Darcy had appeared in the end to support his friend, and in the quiet of the registry, while she waited for her turn to witness the marriage, she began to think how she might lessen Mr Darcy's embarrassment.

When Dr Gregory had cited his need to return to the Wells' home to check on the new mother and her babe, she had seen an opportunity to forward her project, and waited patiently outside the church for him to emerge. The fact he took so long to do so, made her think that he was avoiding the wedding breakfast for her sake. Again, they seemed to have very different ideas of what constituted a truce: for him, it seemed an avoidance of interactions; while for her, it was to _regularise_ their interactions.

When he emerged from the narthex with Georgiana she had her second insight: she would work on him through his sister. So as they walked towards Longbourn, she started to chat with his sister, who was of a similar age to her youngest. She was not sure that Georgiana and Lydia would have much in common, but she would introduce all three of her younger sisters.

Mr Darcy seemed deep in his own thoughts as they walked along. The look of hauteur which had previously characterised him in Hertfordshire seemed to have softened, and he appeared mainly abstracted. He hardly acknowledged them when she offered to take Georgiana off to meet her other sisters.

Elizabeth found Mary in the parlour entertaining the guests on the pianoforte. She seemed unwilling to be disturbed in this occupation but stopped for a moment to greet Georgiana when she discovered she was the sister of their benefactor. Kitty had arrived in the parlour during the introduction, seeking refuge from their mother, who wished her to attend the punch bowl. Kitty thought the guests perfectly capable of handling a ladle themselves, but was perfectly happy to explain the provenance of their new piano, and even led Georgiana outside to introduce her to Mr Bennet's goat.

Georgiana was astonished but amused to hear of the trouble Argos had caused, which prompted Elizabeth to disclose his penchant for rabbits at Netherfield.

"Well I must tell you of another of the misdeeds of Argos," exclaimed Georgiana, eager to converse with her new friends. "My brother and Richard once had an argument, which resulted in raised voices, and Argos bit Richard for his temerity."

"Oh dear," said Miss Elizabeth, "I hope Richard was not injured!"

"It was but a scratch. Luckily he was wearing his topboots, but the dog put a hole clear through the leather. He had to throw them out." _At least_, she thought, _the head groom thought them still wearable._

"Did your brother also have to buy his cousin a new pair of boots?"

"Yes, but the trouble did not finish there: Argos would not let Richard near Brother afterwards, and we had to bribe him with a knuckle bone to get past him."

"Well," said Elizabeth "it would seem the dog is aptly named, though I wonder that your brother tolerates his misdemeanours."

"Oh no, he appreciates that he is loyal. He says that he has a good heart and that trumps any minor infractions of his youth."

This statement gave Elizabeth some more insight into Mr Darcy's character and she saved it up, hoping she might be able to talk to her aunt before she returned to London.

* * *

><p>Two hours after they had arrived at the reception, Georgiana finally returned to Darcy's side, and he reminded her they should start for London in order to reach it before nightfall. The carriage was called for, and they began to make their goodbyes to Bingley and Jane as they waited for it to be brought round.<p>

He had almost gotten as far as the carriage door when Georgiana darted off saying she had forgotten something. Into the space she had vacated, Dr Gregory finally reappeared.

"Forgive my earlier absence Mr Darcy, I had hoped to catch up with you and introduce my wife before you go: Mrs Amanda Gregory."

Darcy stood stock still and turned, speechless, to the lady by Dr Gregory's side. She was a very plain woman, but well dressed. He bent over her hand and murmured, "Enchanted."

Indeed, he was very pleased to meet Dr Gregory's wife! "Forgive me Dr Gregory, I somehow managed to miss your nuptials."

"We were married after you left Netherfield, Sir. So that is not surprising."

Mrs Gregory curtsied and backed away as if she was leaving the presence of royalty.

"Indeed," said Mr Darcy looking down at Dr Gregory's hands. "I used to think myself quite an acute observer, but I completely failed to notice your wedding band in the church this morning, despite the fact that I was sitting in the front row."

"Ah," said Dr Gregory, "you can consider yourself acquitted. I was not wearing it this morning. I took it off to deliver Sophia Wells' baby, and in my hurry to get to the church neglected to put it back on."

Darcy raised his eyebrows. "Well, it sounds like your attendance was a near run thing."

"You have no idea," laughed Dr Gregory. "I also had to change my cravat, and can only be glad that my horse is such a plodder. I looped the reins over the front of the Tilbury while I was tying it, and could only hope that I did a creditable enough job without a mirror. It's just as well my horse knows its way into Meryton!"

Darcy gave a small laugh as Dr Gregory nodded to excuse himself.

Turning back towards the house, he saw Georgiana emerge towing a laughing Miss Elizabeth.

"Brother, tell Miss Elizabeth she must come to visit us in town!"

"Georgiana, I would love to visit you," exclaimed Elizabeth, "but I cannot! I have been to Kent and Derbyshire this year, and I am sure my father will disown me if I leave Hertfordshire in the next six months."

"I am sure Miss Elizabeth will be very busy, Georgie," added Darcy, "but if she visits the Gardiners while we are in London, you could always call on her there."

Elizabeth was a little shocked, but gratified, by this suggestion. "Indeed you must call Georgie," reiterated Elizabeth. "Now go! Your brother looks most impatient to be off!"

With a quick hug for her new friend, Georgiana scooted into the carriage. Her brother lingered, unsure what to say, when Elizabeth suddenly started.

"Oh goodness! I almost forgot!"

She ran back into the house, returning several minutes later with a book which he instantly recognised as the volume of poetry he had loaned her at Pemberley.

"I meant to return it before I left Derbyshire," she explained, holding it out. "I had intended to use Jane as a courier when she visited your townhouse, but as you are here now, I can return it in person."

He received it from her, transferring it to his other hand so he could feel the warmth of her handprint. "Did you like any of the poems?"

She blushed. "I must admit, I can only remember the one about daffodils." _What prevarication! I remember your letter to your sister far better!_

He performed a deep bow and said, "Goodbye, Miss Elizabeth."

The smile had drained from her face as she looked at him. She took a step back and gave a curtsy, "Au revoir, Mr Darcy."

Then she turned and ran back to Mr Bingley and Jane who had come to the front portico to wave.

Darcy stepped into the carriage and rapped on the roof with his walking stick. He caught a last glimpse of her before they were out the front gates.

* * *

><p>As Darcy drove away he realised he been labouring under a grand delusion since talking to Miss Elizabeth at Pemberley. When she said she wished to do something with her life with Dr Gregory, he had assumed that her interest in the good doctor went beyond her work at the infirmary, but it would appear that he assumed too much.<p>

Darcy realised he had continually made the mistake of trying to understand her in terms of the marriageable women who surrounded him. The women who considered playing cards, being dressed fashionably, and going to balls a lifetime occupation. Not only was Miss Elizabeth not interested in these things, as she had told him directly at Pemberley; she was not even interested in getting married. How ironic that the woman who most appealed to him was unreachable: not, as he had previously believed, because her heart belonged to another; no, she did not even want to enter the game.

At last he realised that if he wished to win her heart, he needed to understand her as a person; understand her hopes and dreams and stop treating her like a beautiful doll. He needed to understand how to please a woman worthy of being pleased. _But how?_

They had reached St Albans by the time Darcy shook himself from his ruminations and looked at his sister.

"I hope you enjoyed your time at the wedding, Georgie."

"Very much brother. Longbourn is much smaller than Pemberley but very lively. I've asked Miss Elizabeth and her sisters if I may correspond with them. I hope you approve."


	45. Chapter 45

When Lizzy retreated back inside the front hall of Longbourn, she encountered her Aunt Gardiner.

"Lizzy have you seen Mr Darcy?"

"Yes, Aunt, he just departed."

"Oh dear, I wanted to talk to him before he left, mainly for the sake of politeness, and now I have missed him. Did you get a chance to speak with him?"

"Yes, Aunt, I spoke with him briefly, and spent a lot of time with his sister."

"Oh good, good Lizzy, he was very kind to us at Pemberley. I wouldn't want him to think we were neglecting him."

"I think his problem is usually the opposite Aunt. Although without the presence of the Bingley sisters and Mr Collins, he may have felt sadly neglected."

"Now, now, Lizzy, be nice. I've been wanting to talk with you since I arrived, but it has been such a terrible rush, and we must leave first thing tomorrow morning! Do you have time now?"

They retreated to Lizzy and Jane's bedroom.

"Lizzy, I wrote to my aunt about Mr Darcy, and her account was very similar to that of Mrs Reynolds. He is thought to be a very good master: an excellent landlord to his tenants; and generous to the poor. He does not interfere with the female servants, and ensures his guests don't either. Apparently the Viscount has previously been banned from Pemberley for just such an infraction. After his drunken intrusion during our visit to Pemberley, Mr Darcy sent him packing to London in a post-chaise early on the morning of our picnic."

"Well, Aunt, the small amount of information I have managed to glean from Mr Bingley and Georgiana was favourable. But do you think he could behave differently in London?"

"Well, he wouldn't be alone in that. I, um..." Here her aunt looked a little embarrassed, "I asked your uncle to bring up the topics of Mr Darcy, mistresses, and brothels with Mr Bingley, if he could. Well, he managed to do so yesterday. As you can imagine, it was rather an obscure conversation. Your uncle got the impression that Mr Darcy doesn't spend a lot of time in brothels, but he has used them. He couldn't get any information on whether Mr Darcy might have previously had a mistress."

Lizzy sighed and looked out the window.

"You might also be interested to know that your uncle got the impression that Mr Bingley has also, occasionally, been to a brothel..."

Lizzy flushed red and looked incredulous.

"...but not with Mr Darcy. Apparently they frequent different establishments."

Lizzy shook her head and wondered if Jane was aware of her new husband's indiscretions. It was hardly a topic she could broach with her sister now.

"Many of the men with money tend to use them, Lizzy," said her aunt. "The ones who don't are the rarer species."

"But Aunt, I am not a...such a lady...and Mr Darcy insulted me by making such a proposal!"

"That is true, but there is something else you should know. I considered telling you this during our earlier conversation, but I hesitated to do so."

Mrs Gardiner grasped her niece's hands while Lizzy waited for her aunt to continue.

"I received several such improper proposals before your uncle asked me to marry him."

"You?" asked Lizzy, shocked.

"Yes, Lizzy. I turned them all down, of course, but one gentleman was so persistent that my brothers had to threaten him with violence."

"Oh, Aunt!"

"Remember, that I was associated with the theatre, Lizzy, even though I didn't work on the stage. The men who pursued me were all Cits, not members of the ton like Mr Darcy."

"So it was again a perceived perception of class?"

"I don't think it's so much a question of class, Lizzy. I believe it's more about money. Men are willing to spend money to satisfy their needs, quite a lot of money if a woman is particularly desirable. But they expect their wives to bring money to them. Important women have large dowries. Do you know the extent of the dowry of Mr Darcy's sister?"

"Yes, I believe it is thirty thousand pounds." replied Lizzy.

"There you go. Mr Darcy would expect his wife to bring a similar amount to his coffers."

_Well, Caroline Bingley is not so far from the mark with her twenty thousand pounds, _thought Lizzy_. No wonder she was so dismissive of me, when I only have one thousand._

"It would appear I have been living in my own little bubble, Aunt," said Lizzy.

"I'm sure your world is a nicer one, Lizzy," said her aunt giving her a hug. "But think, if Mr Darcy did convert his original offer to one of marriage, he must like you an awful lot."

* * *

><p>When they returned to the wedding reception downstairs, Jane and Mr Bingley were making their final farewells before heading off to Netherfield. Jane looked rather nervous, and Lizzy could well understand why after the rather intimidating prep talk given to her by their mother.<p>

When their mother had walked into their bedroom on the previous evening and declared her intention of 'having a little talk with Jane', Lizzy had stood up to leave; but Jane grabbed her hand and begged her sister to stay. Her mother was by no means happy about this. Given her timing, she obviously believed premature disclosure might frighten her daughters away from matrimony, but with the big day on the morrow, Jane was unlikely to cry off.

After intimating Lizzy was so incomprehensible one wouldn't know which way she would jump, Mrs Bennet accepted her second eldest remaining in the room.

What followed was without doubt the most embarrassing conversation of Lizzy's life. Not only did what their mother have to say make little sense, it shed far too much light on her parent's own conjugal relations; and Lizzy's attempts to ask questions which might put things in a different light did not swerve her mother from her set speech. Lizzy knew well enough of the mechanics of what occurred in the marriage bed from the farmyard, but her mother's portrayal of what constituted proper behaviour for a lady seemed unlikely to be of much satisfaction to either of the participants. By the time Mrs Bennet had finished, Jane was red to the tips of her ears.

After Jane crawled, mortified, into the bed, and Lizzy had snuffed the candle, there was a long silence. Then Lizzy had a happier thought.

"Jane," she whispered, "has Mr Bingley ever kissed you?"

There was a short silence before her sister admitted, "Yes."

"And what was that like?" asked Lizzy.

"Oh, Lizzy. It was so wonderful, I thought I might faint from delight."

_This_, thought Lizzy, _coincided with her own experience with Mr Darcy_.

"Then, Jane..."

"Yes?"

"Just forget what Mamma said and do what feels right."

Lizzy knew this was nebulous advice, but it had to be better than their mother's speech, and she hoped it would assuage Jane's fears.

"Alright," whispered Jane. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," said Lizzy, as they cuddled up and went to sleep.

* * *

><p>Stepping down from the portico at the front of the house where Mr Bingley's new carriage had drawn up, Lizzy threaded her way through to her sister.<p>

Seeing Jane now, ready to depart for married life, Lizzy thought she could give better advice in the light of the new information she had just received from her aunt, Lizzy gave her a big hug and whispered in her sister's ear, "Jane, just do what Mr Bingley says."

Lizzy pulled away from her sister, holding her hands, and looked into her eyes. She could see that Jane was barely holding back tears, but she nodded mutely in response.

After a final hand squeeze, Jane gave a tiny smile, then climbed into the carriage looking as joyful as if it was a tumbril.

With Mr Bingley, it was otherwise: he looked ecstatic. Tipping his hat to Mr Bennet, he smiled and waved at the well-wishers, before joining his wife in the carriage. Then the married couple was off to Netherfield, to the cheers of the wedding guests, and the catcalls of two village boys who had snuck in the front gates. These two made a hasty exit when Lydia dived off after them.


	46. Chapter 46

**Several readers have reported problems accessing recent chapters which have not appeared or gone missing after being posted. I can assure you I have not taken them down. I have notified fanfiction system administration and hopefully they are working on the problem.**

The day following the wedding, Elizabeth woke up thinking of the hospital. She realised that with Jane gone, she could use their bedroom as she pleased, and promptly decided to turn the extra space into a study.

At breakfast, Lizzy realised her interior decoration plans were a little premature. Of the two usable bedrooms in the south wing of Longbourn, Jane and Elizabeth occupied one, and Kitty and Lydia occupied the other. Mary used a room between these which had originally been a dressing room. Mary's room didn't even have a door to the hall: she entered and exited through Kitty and Lydia's bedroom, having shoved her bed against the opposite door which accessed Jane and Elizabeth's room.

When Mary sat down at the breakfast table, Lizzy realised it behooved her to offer Jane's place to Mary. She was silently grateful when her sister declined to move, citing her preference for solitude.

"Well girls," said Mrs Bennet as she buttered her toast, "What say you to Jane's big day? I think every thing has passed off uncommonly well, I assure you. The spread was as good as any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a turn—and everybody said they never saw so fat a haunch. The champagne punch was fifty times better than what we had at the Lucases' last week; and even Mr Darcy acknowledged, that the partridges were remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French cooks at least. And, I never saw dear Jane look in greater beauty. Mrs Long said so too, for I asked her whether she did not. And what do you think she said besides? 'Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have to find someone for Lizzy now for she is next in line, though where we shall look now the militia have gone I cannot say."

"Well Lizzy, worry not, her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously. If any other young men should come into the neighbourhood, they will look your way first."

Lizzy was heartily glad the militia were gone so she would not have to continue to put up with this silliness at breakfast in the future. After helping Hill returned the furniture in the rooms downstairs to its customary pre-wedding reception state, Lizzy scampered off to the lumber rooms. Finding her father's old desk downstairs, she requested Hill to have it transported to her bedroom at the earliest convenience. She then enlisted her sisters to rearrange the existing furniture. By the time Dr Gregory arrived at eleven to discuss plans for the hospital, Lizzy was well on her way to having her bedroom arranged very much to her liking.

Dr Gregory had brought a box of notions which the haberdasher had given him as part payment for his services, and he duly presented these to Mrs Bennet as a token of his appreciation of Lizzy's help. Mrs Bennet became slightly more reconciled to Lizzy's latest start. He then unfurled a plan of Netherfield on the dining room table and proceeded to describe his long and short term plans for its renovation. The most urgent of these was the conversion of the ballroom into a ward. Lizzy offered to turn his ideas into drawings and a more detailed schematic. The work would begin as soon as Mr Bingley vacated Netherfield in a fortnight.

Mr Bennet had walked in to partake of tea during the course of this discussion, and was appalled at the possibility that the Netherfield library might end up as a ward. Dr Gregory reassured him on this point. The library would remain, along with the study, as the nexus of administration in the hospital.

The next phase of Dr Gregory's plan was revealed to Mrs Bennet in the afternoon, when Mr Jones arrived in his gig to give Lizzy a driving lesson. The good doctor was, of course, concerned about the three mile distance between Netherfield and Longbourn which precluded Lizzy arriving there every day by foot, as had been her habit when she frequented the infirmary. Never much of a horsewoman, Lizzy took to the whip admirably, and was soon bowling up and down the village street in command of her chariot, with the village children running raucously behind.

On the following morning, Dr Gregory arrived with the infirmary's ledgers under his arm, begging Lizzy to run her eye over them; and presenting her with a fresh volume for the hospital. He explained how a board was being convened to manage patronage for the hospital; and invited Mr Bennet to become a member, an honour he swiftly declined before disappearing behind _The Morning Post_.

Dr Gregory then revealed his intention to loan Elizabeth his old gig, which he had recently supplanted with the Tilbury. But upon hearing this pronouncement, Mr Bennet gruffly stated from behind his newspaper that he wasn't using his own gig much these days.

_Or at all,_ thought Lizzy.

So it was decided that the Bennet gig was henceforth at Lizzy's disposal.

Shortly after Dr Gregory departed, Mr and Mrs Bingley arrived for their first family lunch. Jane looked radiant, hugging her mother and kissing her father, before disappearing upstairs with her favourite sister.

Jane was somewhat startled when she walked into their old room to find the chaise lounge had disappeared.

"Lizzy, it's completely different!" she said as she surveyed the desk and bookcases. "I feel like I've lost my home!" she mewled.

"Oh, come now, Mistress of Netherfield," Lizzy chided, "you didn't look too upset when you walked in the front door. I gather your marital duties aren't as revolting as Mamma painted?"

"Oh, Lizzy, he is so wonderful!" cried Jane. "I do so enjoy being married!"

"So it did not hurt?" whispered Lizzy.

"No, not at all." replied Jane, not bothering to lower her voice. "It is the most joyous thing I've ever experienced in my life! And Charles says there is so much more!"

_High praise indeed, Mr Bingley_, thought Lizzy. She did not think she could look her brother-in-law in the face again.

"So what has been decided," asked Lizzy changing the subject, "are you to live in London or Yorkshire?"

"Yorkshire," replied Jane decisively. "After we spend the fortnight at Mr Darcy's townhouse, we are coming back to Netherfield for one week, at Dr Gregory's invitation, so that I can say my goodbyes. Then we are off to Sheffield to stay with the Nettlecombs: the family of Charles' business partner. Apparently they have a huge house, where we can stay while we find a place of our own. But we will be back to London for Christmas, possibly to stay with the Hursts."

The afternoon was spent sorting through Jane's belongings, deciding what to pack in her newly purchased trunk, and what to consign to the lumber room for another trip.

After her sister left, Lizzy sat down to examine the infirmary's ledgers and was rather dismayed by what she found there. With a sigh she ruled a neat line underneath, opened the box of invoices, and started to write.

A day later, Lizzy received her first note from Georgiana, letting her know the Darcys had arrived in London, and begging her to visit during Jane's stay, else she would be obliged to journey to Kent with her brother. Elizabeth was too busy with the hospital to go for a jaunt, but after talking with Mary, she was able to offer her sister instead. Jane was also glad to have Mary's companionship, particularly if it also secured Georgiana's. She looked forward to shopping with them in Bond street during the days when Mr Bingley would be in the city conducting business.

For the rest of the honeymoon, Jane sent the Bingley carriage for Lizzy before lunch, and they spent their afternoons reminiscing of their life at Longbourn, their stay at Netherfield during Jane's illness, and their inauspicious arrival there after the carriage accident. All the while they measured rooms and Lizzy plotted to turn the grand old house into an institution.

"Did you never wonder where Mr Darcy spent all his time when he was at Netherfield?" asked Jane as she poured tea one afternoon in the library.

"Not really, no," replied Lizzy. "I was too busy looking after you. I presume he was down playing cards with the ladies and Mr Hurst."

"Oh no! He spent most of his time in the study managing the estate for Charles. Charles had no experience with estate management, you see, and there was no steward initially, so Mr Darcy did everything before he recruited a steward for Charles. Charles says he would have made a total hash of it without his friend. Mr Hurst was no help at all."

Never having seen Mr Hurst do anything beyond eat, sleep and play cards, Lizzy could readily believe this. Had she painted Mr Darcy with the same brush?

"He really has been a very good friend to Charles, Lizzy." Jane continued, "I believe him to be a most excellent man."

In the evenings the Bingleys returned with Lizzy to Longbourn for dinner before heading back to Netherfield in the moonlight.

Lizzy had already received two excited letters from Georgiana anticipating the Bingley's arrival before the happy couple went off on their London jaunt with Mary. She answered these as best she could between doing other things. Kitty had taken over the bulk of the work in the still room for Mr Jones, with Lizzy only assisting when there were issues with the apparatus, or _digitalis_ to be prepared. Finally, the renovations to Netherfield could begin in earnest.

Two days after Jane's departure, the first patient arrived at the hospital, a Captain Kirkby of the 50th foot who had been paralysed at the Battle of Corunna. He considered himself a lucky man, most of his companions had died in battle trying to defend the embarking army's flanks from Soult's attack. The captain had the means to pay for a private room, but was unable to take the stairs in his wheeled chair. Lizzy started to take tea with him in the afternoons while she supervised the installation of a water closet, a new invention which would lessen the need for chamber pots. The captain was heartily grateful for Lizzy's company, he had been loath to institutionalise himself, but had little choice after the death of his mother from consumption.

A week later, three more soldiers had arrived - veterans of Salamanca. Major Thraxton had lost both his hands to an artillery shell which had exploded nearby. He made do with wooden prostheses which were strapped to his arms. Lieutenants Harboard and Entwistle were both cavalrymen who had lost their sword arms to the engagement. Harboard was missing his left and Entwistle his right. Together, they joked, the made up one decent sort of man. The downstairs ward had began to take on the flavour of a barracks.

Soon after the appearance of the new arrivals, Lydia requested a ride to Netherfield in the gig one morning, eager to meet the military heroes now in residence. She was momentarily taken aback upon making their acquaintance: the maimed remnants of British manhood she encountered were a far cry from the whole, but untried militiamen who had recently occupied Meryton.

Lizzy was called away from her patients to discuss the installation of a new closed stove in the kitchen with Mrs Fletcher. When she returned, Lydia had instituted a card game. Lizzy was happy to find Captain Kirkby participating with the first smile on his face she had seen since his arrival.

By the time Jane and Mary had returned from London, Lydia had dubbed herself a nurse, and drafted her friend Mariah Lucas from Meryton. They spent their days entertaining the men and occasionally doing something useful like pushing Captain Kirkby round the garden. Of course, there were paid nurses from Meryton who did the real work, but Dr Gregory was very glad for Lydia and Mariah's assistance. Not only did they raise morale, they could read. The village women had to rely on their patients to read instructions for their own care when the ladies were not about: a situation which might have been ludicrous, if it wasn't so commonplace.

The Bingleys occupied the master's chambers at Netherfield for one last time before their removal to Yorkshire. Jane was delighted to show Lizzy all the finery she had purchased in Bond street. Charles had opened his pocketbook, and Georgiana had introduced Jane to her own modiste. The gowns they had slaved over stitching prior to Jane's wedding seemed amateurish in comparison to the Bond street gowns, but Jane did not despair. She had studied each of the modiste's gowns and seen how she could improve the homemade ones to make them look more professional. Upon Jane's encouragement, Mary had purchased a single pair of white kid gloves, inspiring Jane to choose a lovely pair of brown kid gloves for Lizzy to wear when she drove the gig.

Jane spoke in wonder of the Darcy townhouse: if Pemberley was the epitome of an English country estate, then the Darcy townhouse was a model of city sophistication. Of Georgiana, she had nothing but praise: she was the sweetest and best educated girl of her acquaintance; the Bingley sisters looked like poor simulacra of ladies of quality in comparison. Of Mr Darcy, they saw nothing. There had been a problem with Lady Catherine's steward, Darcy had to recruit a new one and fix some problems that had arisen due to the previous poor management. He spent the entire time at Rosings and was unable to return to London before the Bingleys' departure. They had left Georgiana to the companionship of Mrs Annersley.

Jane spent her final week in Hertfordshire dividing her time between her family at Longbourn, where she spent her mornings; and the company of her husband and dearest sister at Netherfield, where she spent her afternoons. Lizzy was now sufficiently experienced to drive herself to and from Netherfield with a footman sitting on the tailgate.

Meeting the patients of the new hospital was an eye-opener for Jane. After reading of the carnage during the peninsular war it was sobering to be reminded that not all those who returned could lead comfortable and productive lives. Jane silently applauded her sister's occupation and thought that her earlier objections to Lizzy's work seemed more worthy of the Bingley sisters. She guiltily thought that Lydia seemed to have more proper sensibility than she did herself.

The day of the Bingley's departure for Yorkshire was one of much lamentation. Mrs Bennet wailed, Jane cried, and even Lizzy shed a tear. The gentleman stood around, wondering what all the fuss was about, and trying to look supportive. Finally Charles handed Jane into the carriage and climbed in himself. The steps were put up, and they were off.

* * *

><p>Alone in her bed at night, Elizabeth missed Jane. Sometimes she thought of Mr Darcy: their kiss, and how it had made her feel. It was strange how time had distorted her memory of her stay at Hunsford. The evening of his proposal had been replayed a hundred times in her mind while other events had paled into insignificance. It had got to the point where Mr Collins and Lady Catherine seemed only to exist as weird caricatures in her memory; and she began to wonder whether the silent Anne de Bourgh was not a figment of her imagination.<p>

Occasionally she thought of her aunt's words on Jane's wedding day and tried to remember just exactly what Mr Darcy had said to her after his first improper proposal. In his letter, which she had, as he requested, burnt, he said he believed he was honour bound to offer marriage. But that was a pale, reluctant proposal, wasn't it? She had been right to turn her nose up at it, hadn't she? At Pemberley he had said he had the deepest admiration and respect for her and had asked if there was hope. She had spurned him again. And what of his behaviour at the wedding? A tiny part of her wished that he had come to see her again, but was there any evidence in his behaviour to support that? He had been silent and abstracted as they walked from the church, and not sought her company at the reception.

Now as, she lay her head on the pillow, she went through the sequence once more.

_Why, if he came to the wedding only to be silent, grave, and indifferent, she thought, did he come at all? If he no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing, man! I will think no more about him._

Exhausted, she fell asleep.


	47. Chapter 47

At Rosings, Darcy was having a damnable time. During his last visit at Easter he had noticed a discrepancy between the ledgers kept by Lady Catherine's steward and a survey of the works performed during the past year. It had concerned him sufficiently that he had summoned his own steward from Pemberley to investigate the matter, leaving the under-steward in charge of his own business in Derbyshire. The steward of Rosings had fled when his own steward had discovered a trail of embezzlement. The sum of money involved was large enough to warrant calling in the Bow Street Runners, which he had done.

Darcy had also insisted on choosing the new steward himself. His aunt always chose toadies rather than judging people on their merits. Frankly, Darcy didn't want to have to clean up another mess.

He had been three weeks in Kent when the Lucases arrived at Hunsford to visit Charlotte again. Darcy could not wonder that Charlotte was finding the sole company of her husband rather tedious.

His aunt had invited the Hunsford party to afternoon tea but he excused himself citing estate business.

When he finally joined his aunt for dinner, she was thankfully only accompanied by his cousin Anne and her companion, Mrs Jenkinson.

However, Darcy quickly saw he would have no peace when his aunt started with: -

"Sir William tells me you have just purchased an estate near Meryton called Netherfield."

Darcy nodded while silently cursing Sir William. He had not been happy when Dr Gregory wrote that he had joined the hospital's governing board. The man had loose lips.

"What possible use can you have for a property in that part of England?" asked his aunt. "Its only virtue is its convenience to London."

"Exactly," replied Darcy. "I believe property close to London will increase in value as the population of the city continues to increase. I used the proceeds from the recent sale of a piece of property in Yorkshire."

"Land that your grandfather inherited!" carped his aunt.

"The tenant made an incredibly good offer. It would have been the height of folly to turn it down."

"You are squandering your fortune!" shrieked Lady Catherine.

"It is my fortune to squander aunt, not yours," replied Darcy coolly.

"When are you going to come to the sticking point with Anne?" badgered his aunt.

"Reiterating your plans of a projected marriage between Anne and myself will not turn them into reality, Aunt. We have never discussed marriage and we never will. We are cousins and have grown up together. That is the sum of our relationship."

"It was your mother's dearest wish," retorted Lady Catherine.

"Thank you," said Darcy, pushing away his empty soup plate. "I have had enough."

"You have not yet tasted the main course!" howled his aunt.

"I believe I am suffering from dyspepsia," said Darcy. "I will be leaving tomorrow. My under-steward will arrive the following day to take up his duties here. Treat him well or I will take him back."

"Good evening, Aunt," he said giving her a courteous bow. "Anne, Mrs Jenkinson," he said as he nodded to the other two ladies.

* * *

><p>One morning, about a week after the Bingleys departed for Yorkshire, Elizabeth was amusing herself in the Netherfield library after updating the ledgers. She cast an admiring glance at the handsome spiral staircase which had recently been installed leading to the Masters chambers.<p>

When the Bingleys had vacated Netherfield Dr Gregory had been finally been able to view the Masters chambers for the first time. He had been quite taken by this sumptuous room and had decided to leave them intact for the benefit of any important guests who might visit. He might also need to use them occasionally himself if any critical situation should require an overnight stay at Netherfield. In addition, he thought a quick nap in the middle of the day after burning the midnight oil might set him up nicely for the rest of a busy afternoon.

When Lizzy described the wonderful library at Pemberley with its spiral staircase, it had occurred to the good doctor that such a staircase would allow him to access the library in his nightshirt without having to encounter any of his patients or staff on the set of common stairs in the hall. He could also have his nap without anyone being the wiser. Although he always like to maintain an appearance of momentum, and indeed worked himself to the bone, he was human; and Lizzy had occasionally found him collapsed on top of a book at his desk. There was only so much coffee he could drink. A quick nap with no one the wiser would help him maintain an appearance of the superhuman.

Thus he had quickly agreed to the installation of such a staircase and Lizzy had done a superlative job in ordering an installing it with taste and flair.

Giving it a final appreciative glance, Lizzy began looking through one of the tomes by the Muslim physician, Avicenna. Dr Gregory had moved the more important historical texts of his growing collection there, leaving more practical books at the infirmary. Her attention was suddenly drawn by the sound of a carriage; and she perceived the distinctive sound of a chaise and four in the drive. She was not expecting any new patients but she rose to investigate.

Carefully re-shelving the volume, she rose and crossed the carpet, but she had scarcely reached the door when it was thrown open, and Fletcher announced Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Elizabeth could only surmise that Lady Catherine had come on a tour of inspection, which Dr Gregory occasionally arranged for potential patrons. He usually alerted Elizabeth if one of these was imminent, but he had failed to do so when he arrived on the premises an hour earlier.

Lady Catherine entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no other reply to Elizabeth's salutation than a slight inclination of the head, and sat down without saying a word.

"Lady Catherine, what an unexpected pleasure. I presume you are here for an inspection. Shall I ring for Dr Gregory?"

"Where does that staircase lead?" asked Lady Catherine abruptly.

"To the master's chambers," replied Elizabeth dumbfounded.

Lady Catherine inhaled noisily and pursed her lips.

"You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come."

Elizabeth looked at her with unaffected astonishment.

"Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here."

"Miss Bennet," replied her ladyship, in an angry tone, "you ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only has your sister most advantageously married a rich tradesman from Yorkshire, an acquaintance of my nephew Darcy; but that _you_, Miss Bennet, have recently agreed to become his mistress."

Elizabeth froze in horror.

"Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood," continued Lady Catherine, "though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you."

"If you believed it impossible to be true," said Elizabeth, colouring with astonishment and embarrassment, "I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?"

"I came at once to insist that you cease and desist."

Now Elizabeth was truly angry, a state which boded no good.

"Your coming so flagrantly to Netherfield," said Elizabeth coolly, "will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence."

"If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? What have you so industriously been doing upstairs with my nephew, Miss Bennet?"

"I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer."

"This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Have you been shagging my nephew?"

Elizabeth had never heard the word _shagging_ before but she could guess pretty well what it meant from the context.

"Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible."

"It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn him in."

"If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it."

"Miss Bennet, did my nephew not purchase this property to indulge his sinful lust for you?"

"What?!" yelled Elizabeth. "Who on earth told you that?"

"Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns."

Elizabeth was fuming.

"But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behaviour as this, ever induce me to be explicit."

"Let me be rightly understood. I will not tolerate this association. No, never. Mr Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?"

"Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he would have anything to do with me."

"Do you pay no regard to his tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy?"

"If Mr Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice?"

"Because honour, decorum and prudence forbid it. You will be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him. Your alliance is a disgrace."

"These are heavy misfortunes," replied Elizabeth. "But the mistress of Mr Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine."

"Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that score? Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person's whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment."

"That will make your ladyship's situation at present more pitiable; but it will have no effect on me."

"I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. Promise me that you will break off this unholy alliance with my nephew immediately."

"I will make no promise of the kind."

"Miss Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the assurance I require."

"Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have grossly mistaken my character. How far your nephew might approve of your interference in his affairs, I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no farther on the subject."

"Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the objections I have already urged, I have still another to add. My nephew is descended, on the maternal side, from a noble line; and, on the father's, from respectable, honourable, and ancient—though untitled—families. Heaven and earth!—of what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"

"You can now have nothing further to say," she resentfully answered. "You have insulted me in every possible method. I must beg you to leave this house."

Her ladyship was highly incensed.

"You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew! Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?"

"Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments."

"You are then resolved to have him?"

"I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me."

"It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world."

"Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude," replied Elizabeth, "have any possible claim on me, in the present instance. Your presumption is outrageous."

"And this is your final resolve! Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you reasonable; but, depend upon it, I will carry my point."

With this final sally, Lady Catherine stalked from the room, slamming the door.

Elizabeth collapsed onto the chaise lounge as she heard the carriage drive away.


	48. Chapter 48

**Dodging brickbats, the author continues...**

When Fletcher opened the door of the Netherfield library to announce Lady Catherine, Elizabeth had immediately assumed she had arrived on official hospital business. But once she began her diatribe, it became increasingly obvious that she had an axe to grind. Elizabeth had frozen in horror when Lady Catherine had finally got round to accusing her of being Mr Darcy's mistress. How could she have discovered his offer? None of the servants had been present that evening at Hunsford, and she was sure her friend Charlotte would never have betrayed her...

Elizabeth believed Lady Catherine could only have become aware of her nephew's offer by hearsay and speculation. _The salient point, _she reminded herself_, is that I am innocent._

Indeed, not only had Elizabeth not taken up Darcy's offer, she had soundly chastised him for making such an improper proposal! Thus she was not about to admit anything to Lady Catherine, and set about making a May game of every statement his aunt made in typical Mr Bennet fashion.

However, she had been momentarily discomposed when Mr Darcy's aunt alleged that he had purchased Netherfield as a love nest.

_Could not this stupid woman see that she was in a hospital?_ thought Elizabeth in amazement. Looking around herself, Elizabeth realised the Netherfield library was much as it ever was; and, she realised, the foyer also. Nor, she reasoned, had any sign declaring the existence of the hospital been erected at the entrance. Apprised of the soldiers' sensibilities regarding their permanent residence there, Dr Gregory had been keen to avoid the appearance of an institution. Presumably, Lady Catherine believed she had walked into a typical country estate. _But where on earth could Lady Catherine have got the notion that her nephew had purchased it for me? It belonged to Dr Gregory's patron!_

Then Lady Catherine had walked out, slamming the door and leaving Elizabeth to collapse on the lounge, trembling slightly after the onslaught.

But her spirits could not be oppressed for long. Sitting up on the chaise, she thought over the confrontation once more. Elizabeth could not be sanguine that she had handled the situation well at all. Maybe she should have denied outright that she was Mr Darcy's mistress. She could just imagine Lady Catherine screaming back that she was a liar. Perhaps the guerrilla tactics she had instinctively adopted had served her well after all? At least she had not openly lost her temper with Lady Catherine...

_Blast Mr Darcy and his family! _Why should they continually put her in these situations? She was a complete innocent! First he asks her to be his mistress. Then, his aunt comes along, accusing her of taking up his offer. Such language from a lady! _What had Mr Darcy told her, and why?_

She began pacing up and down in an agitated manner and was still doing so when Dr Gregory walked in.

"Are you well Elizabeth? You look upset. Have you had bad news?"

"The most bizarre thing has happened Douglas. I cannot account for it. Mr Darcy's aunt has just stormed in here, and accused me of... She believes he has purchased this property for me!"

"Ah!" said Dr Gregory sitting down. He frowned, and seemed to be considering something grave. Then he looked at Lizzy, "Mr Darcy does own this place. I pay him a peppercorn rent."

"What!? So _he_ is your benefactor?"

She stared out the window, recovering herself. "Indeed, I am surprised. I would not have thought it of him..."

Silence reigned.

"I still cannot understand why his aunt jumped to such unwarranted conclusions. She must be mad!"

Dr Gregory sighed. "Nor can I. But there is one other thing you ought to know..."

"Yes?" asked Lizzy.

"There was a stipulation on the agreement. It was to be kept secret, and indeed I may lose the use of the property if I divulge it, but in the circumstances..."

She fixed her attention on him.

"The property was made available on the condition that you be allowed to return as my assistant."

A flash of anger streaked across her face when she realised that her life had been ordered behind her back, but she calmed when she realised that the arrangement was consistent with her own wishes.

"Why would he do such a thing?" she asked.

"I asked him the same question. He merely said that you had done him a great service by giving him some advice, and he wished to return the favour."

She turned quickly away as tears sprung unbidden to her eyes.

Dr Gregory stood. "Elizabeth, I believe I should check Lieutenant Entwistle. I lanced one of his wounds this morning. Shall we have tea when I return?"

She nodded mutely.

After Dr Gregory departed, Elizabeth returned to pacing up and down the library, trying to understand the implications of this new information.

Shortly after Mrs Fletcher deposited the tea-tray and departed, Dr Gregory returned. A glance at Miss Bennet satisfied him that she had mastered her emotions.

She handed him a cup of tea. "So he coerced you into taking me back?" she said quietly.

He had not thought about it like that. "No," he replied. "I never wanted you to leave in the first place. You must forgive my wife. I tried to explain that you and I had a strictly professional relationship, but she was quite insistent, and I did not want to cause problems between us so early in our relationship."

He took a sip of tea before continuing:-

"It was quite a relief when Mr Darcy spelled out the terms of the arrangement. Things were never so well run at the infirmary after you left. I had to employ two people to do the work you managed to accomplish in the two hours you spent there each day. I knew the hospital would involve employing more staff, and I could only hope that you would accept my offer to return. There was no coercion required."

"As for Amanda, she accepted that she was being ridiculously possessive. Please, tell me this has not affected our association. I value your work so highly."

"It is well, Douglas, but you must let me digest this."

"Do you intend to tell Mr Darcy that I have divulged his secret to you?"

"Tell him? I do not know why I should. I am an acquaintance only. I can hardly write him a letter."

"Thank you. It would be devastating to lose the place. His patronage has been a godsend, but I felt in the light of today's occurrence..."

"I will not lie to him if he confronts me. We can only hope that he will understand that his aunt's interference forced your hand. But I still cannot understand why she visited me today. I can only imagine that she has heard some garbled rumor, either through my cousin or the Lucases."

"Well, Sir William is on the hospital board, but the board members know that all the business of the board is confidential. Mr Darcy made it quite clear that he did not want his patronage made public."

"What a strange, inscrutable man he is," replied Lizzy.

"I have the highest regard for him," said Dr Gregory. "I cannot think of a better fellow."

* * *

><p>The enigma of Lady Catherine's visit was partly explained by a letter Lizzy received from Charlotte the next day. In it, Charlotte wrote that Mariah had recently confessed to overhearing their conversation during Elizabeth's visit at Easter; and this confession had in turn been overheard by her husband. Despite Charlotte's protests to her sister that she must have misconstrued what she heard, her husband had visited Rosings soon after, and Lady Catherine had set out later that day in her travelling carriage.<p>

Fortunately, nobody at Netherfield had been within earshot of the library when Lady Catherine had raised her voice, and Dr Gregory had let it be known that she was visiting as a potential patron.

Elizabeth did wonder how her cousin had broached such a topic to Lady Catherine, and in her imagination each reconstruction of this scene became increasingly comical. Dr Gregory was relieved to see a smile back on her face.

* * *

><p>Sitting at his desk in his study, Darcy gave a large sigh. He had just finished dealing with the Bow Street Runner regarding the debacle of Lady Catherine's steward. It was a bad business, but he believed the outcome achieved was the best he could hope for. In return for withdrawing the charges against him, the steward had offered to return one thousand pounds of the money stolen, all that he had left in his possession. By Darcy's reckoning, the total amount embezzled was roughly one and a half thousand pounds. The recovery of a good part of the money was more than he had hoped for, and Darcy was secretly glad to spare the fellow the noose. The Bow Street Runner was less sanguine, but having been paid well for his services, he was not about to carp. Darcy was contemplating the one thousand pounds sitting in front of him in a small strongbox, when he was drawn from his reverie by the harsh sound of his aunt's voice from the vestibule.<p>

"Where is my nephew? I must see him at once!"

He heard the clack of her heels and cane approaching.

He quickly stood as she burst into his study with his butler trailing haplessly behind.

"Aunt, what has you in such a pelter?" he asked, motioning the butler to leave.

_Good lord,_ he thought, _is she now going to tell me that the steward had also stolen the gold plate?_

"You should tell me nephew! you should tell me! You purchased that property in Hertfordshire to house your mistress!"

Darcy froze. Although there were some uncomfortable near truths in his aunt's statement, Darcy was not about to admit to them.

"What on earth are you talking about?" he countered.

"You cannot deny it! I have been to Hertfordshire and seen for myself!" declared his aunt.

Darcy paled.

"Aunt, what have you done?" he croaked.

"I have been to your property, Neverland, and spoken to that shameless hussy you keep there! And now I have come here to demand you give her up!"

"You have been to Netherfield in Hertfordshire?"

"You heard me nephew."

"And who exactly did you speak to there?"

"Why, to that Bennet girl of course, lounging around in the library, ready to do your bidding!"

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet? What on earth did you say to her?"

"I handled the situation with kid gloves, nephew. I told her while I knew that the rumour that she is your mistress must be a scandalous falsehood, that I would be frank in demanding that she instantly cease and desist."

"The devil you did!" said Darcy, growing even paler.

"Language, nephew! And do you know what she said in reply?" asked his aunt without stopping to let her nephew get a word in edgeways. "that she did not _pretend _to possess equal frankness with myself; that she would be the _last_ person to confess it; that your mistress must have such _extraordinary sources of happiness_ necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine."

Darcy had begun to regain his countenance during this latter speech, and even had to repress a smile when his aunt related the last clause of Elizabeth's saucy reply.

He then stood to his full height and replied icily:-

"Aunt, I cannot believe you have done such a thing. I rent Netherfield to a physician, Dr Gregory, a stellar graduate of the Edinburgh Medical School. It is a hospital. Miss Bennet lives with her family at Longbourn, three miles away. She does charitable work there."

Lady Catherine was a little taken a back. _Granted_, she thought, _the butler was dressed a little casually even for a country seat._

"What a perverse thing for a lady to do!" she countered, "If she wishes to engage in charitable work, why does she not embroider an altar cloth, or knit clothes for orphans?"

Darcy replied with his most repressive hauteur:-

"Because Aunt, there was a war. The one with Napoleon. You may remember it... Raged in Europe for several years? Made it terribly difficult to get brandy."

"You know I do not drink spiritous liquors, nephew."

Darcy was unsurprised his aunt was incapable of recognising irony.

"Aunt, you are no doubt aware that over 15,000 British men were killed in the war, but there are also over 3,000 men who were discharged because of their wounds. These men are missing eyes, limbs... Some of those who are still whole will never walk again. Dr Gregory's hospital provides respite and permanent care for these veterans; and Miss Bennet works there out of the goodness in her heart."

"A hospital?" squeaked Lady Catherine.

"Furthermore," stated Darcy emphatically, "I can assure you Aunt, that Miss Bennet is not, and _never will be_, my mistress."

Lady Catherine was, for once, at a loss for words. She had never known her nephew to be untruthful.

Darcy quickly capitalised on his advantage. "You will, _of course_, apologize."

"Out of the question, nephew," his aunt breathed, making a recover.

"Then do not expect to ever see me at Rosings again, Aunt. You have embarrassed me in the eyes of Miss Bennet, and likely also those of Dr Gregory. I cannot imagine this incident can have escaped his notice occurring at his hospital, as it did."

Darcy placed a fresh sheet of paper upon the desk in front of his aunt, and pushed the writing implements towards her. "Your apology, Aunt, in writing, please."

Taking the pen in her hand, Lady Catherine sat down upon a chair, seemingly deflated.

"Wait," said Darcy, holding up his hand as a new idea struck him. "I have thought of a way by which you may save face... I will go to Hertfordshire to try to smooth things over. I will carry your note with me, Aunt. Please write the following:-

"_Dear Dr Gregory_

_I was greatly impressed by your work with the wounded from the war on the continent during my recent visit with Miss Bennet. Please accept this small token of my esteem from my nephew_

_Yours etc_"

Once his aunt had finished this missive, Darcy stated, "A donation of one thousand pounds should do the trick."

"A sum of one thousand pounds will cripple the estate!" shrieked Lady Catherine.

"That, Aunt," said Darcy, hefting the strongbox from the desk, "is the sum I managed to retrieve from your wayward steward. If you didn't notice it go missing earlier this year, you will hardly notice it now."

"Very well, nephew," said Lady Catherine in a small voice. "Please accept my apologies for the miscommunication."

"Accepted, Aunt. Please feel free to make use of the green room tonight. I gather you will be returning to Kent in the morning?"

"Yes, nephew."

She had stood to go when Darcy had an afterthought.

"Aunt, this _miscommunication_, it did not perchance, come through the agency of your rector?"

"He was involved, nephew," admitted Lady Catherine.

"Make sure it does not happen again."

"What would you suggest, nephew?"

"Oh I don't know, whatever is appropriate in Kent these days... Cut out his tongue, perhaps?"


	49. Chapter 49

Mr Darcy had sent off a short note to Dr Gregory in the afternoon apprising him of his intention to visit the following day, and indicating he was acting as a courier for his aunt, who was keen to extend her patronage to the hospital. He set off from Mayfair in his chaise and four at first light, carrying the strong box in one of the hidden compartments of his carriage.

He had spent rather a sleepless night, rehearsing in his mind what he might say to Elizabeth when he met her. The rocking of the carriage finally sent him off to sleep and he passed through Barnet and Hatfield oblivious to his surroundings. He woke when they crossed the River Lea. The last seven miles were torture as he became more and more nervous as the gates of Netherfield approached.

* * *

><p>After arriving at Netherfield in her gig, Elizabeth had spent the morning rearranging the dispensary with Mr Jones after the installation of the new pigeon holes. Having labelled everything to her satisfaction, she had just returned to the library when she heard the chaise and four drive up. Being apprised of Mr Darcy's imminent visit, she felt a moment of panic. Suppressing the absurd notion to race upstairs and hide in the Master's chambers, or escape onto the terrace and hence into the rose garden, Elizabeth took a deep breath and stood her ground. Footsteps, which she instantly recognised as Mr Darcy's topboots, accompanied Fletcher's softer tread to the door, before the inevitable knock.<p>

Mr Darcy was duly announced. He entered, carrying a curly brimmed beaver which he was twisting in his hands.

"Miss Bennet," he said making a deep bow.

Elizabeth curtsied in return, finding herself temporarily speechless. _Goodness, this is embarrassing! Is he not going to speak first?_

Silence ensued.

She broke it first. "Mr Darcy, I do believe you are going to ruin that beaver!"

He looked down at his hands, seemingly unaware of what they were doing.

"Or," she said, suddenly filled with mischief, "are you trying to curl the brim a little more?"

"Miss Bennet," he finally blurted, "I believe my aunt visited here yesterday. I have come to apologise on her behalf."

_That was it?_ she thought. _As an apology, it really didn't cut the mustard._

"Mr Darcy your aunt abused me vociferously yesterday; making allegations I dare not repeat."

"I am aware of the nature of her allegations, Miss Bennet. She arrived at my townhouse in London after visiting Hertfordshire. Not having received what she deemed an appropriate response on her trip here, she decided to chastise me in London as well. She learned that I had purchased this property when I was recently in Kent, and took me to task there, for what she viewed as an injudicious acquisition. I told her I had bought it as an investment, which is true enough. Sometime after I left Rosings, she seems to have come across some other information, and put two and two together to make five."

"I received a letter from Charlotte yesterday, Mr Darcy. She was my only confidant, after our contretemps at Hunsford, or so I thought. Apparently, her sister Mariah overheard our exchange and unwittingly unleashed her secret within earshot of my cousin, Mr Collins. Charlotte's attempts to dampen the rumour were unsuccessful."

"Ah!" said Mr Darcy, looking at the floor, "I feared it might have been something like that. I have managed to convince my aunt that there was no basis to the allegations; and sent her back to Kent with a flea in her ear. Hopefully your cousin will bear the brunt of her anger, quashing the rumour at that end."

He looked up again. "Besides the onslaught to your sensibilities, is there any damage to repair here?"

"I believe Dr Gregory has made good. The Fletchers _did_ hear Lady Catherine raise her voice, but not the content of her speech. Dr Gregory told them she was visiting as a potential patron, and that she is _quite_ deaf."

"How inventive of him. I suppose it is quite easy when you are a doctor. Fortunately I can add to that rumour: my aunt has decided to gift a thousand pounds to the hospital."

Elizabeth was astonished. "Truly? I would not have thought her so generous."

Darcy shifted in his seat. "I had some part in convincing her, but I thought it an appropriate penance."

"I do not believe in penances, Mr Darcy, only atonement," replied Elizabeth.

"I am afraid penance is the best you will get from my aunt, but we both know the real villain here is me," he said softly, "and I am most willing to atone."

"You are probably thinking it was injudicious of me to confide in Charlotte."

"I am in no position to criticise, Miss Bennet."

"Still, I rue that I was not strong enough to hide it well. Charlotte guessed it."

"She guessed it?" asked Mr Darcy in amazement.

"At least, she guessed that you had proposed marriage, and I was not proof against her questions."

Darcy closed his eyes briefly. "Your friend is very percipient."

"Indeed, and how a person who is so percipient could have accepted my cousin as a husband is one of life's eternal mysteries."

"I can only guess she is of a practical nature. But how do you suppose she guessed, when you yourself were so ignorant of my entrapment?"

"I believe the rose was the clincher."

"Did I injudiciously leave it lying around?"

"Indeed you did, Sir, though your exit was so hasty, I suppose it was no wonder."

"So, she found it on the parlour floor?"

"No, no, Sir, you must believe me stupid! She found it in the pig bucket, even though I thought I had cunningly hid it within."

"The pig bucket! Oh, how you cut me down to size, Elizabeth! Put what the pig bringeth in the pig bucket!"

She gave a small smile at his jest at his own expense.

"But we were speaking of your atonement, sir. I did not get a chance to speak of it at Jane's wedding, but I thank you for rectifying that situation."

"You are most welcome, Miss Bennet, please forgive me for sticking my oar in."

"Thank you, also, for your patronage to Dr Gregory. I only became aware that you were his patron yesterday after your aunt left, but you do so much good by helping these poor soldiers who seem to be the forgotten ones from the war."

"You give me too much credit for goodness, Elizabeth. What I did, I did for you alone. I made you unhappy with my selfish proposal. My only wish was of giving happiness to you, to wash away that sin. If you are happy now, then I have achieved my purpose."

"Fitzwilliam," she said, and her use of that name brought a lump to his throat. "I fear I have been overly harsh to you when you have been trying to make reparations. I did not think I ever wanted to marry. The thought of becoming a man's chattel was repugnant to me. But after seeing Jane's happiness, I believe it would not be such a trial to be the wife of a good man, and I believe you to be a good man, Fitzwilliam."

He caught his breath at the implication of her words.

"I fear I am not such a good man, Elizabeth, but I will try to be a better one, if you will consent to be my wife."

Elizabeth did not reply to this, but moved closer to him and removed the curly-brimmed beaver from his hand.

She had only just placed it on the table when he caught her in his arms and proceeded to kiss her in much the same way he had attempted at Hunsford. He found her reaction even more gratifying, for not only did she melt into his arms, she responded to his kiss in a way that made him quite dizzy. When they did come up for air, he held her away from him, because he really did feel in some danger of losing his balance.

It was then that his eyes fixed upon the spiral stairs.

"Were those stairs there before?" he asked trying to remember the layout of the upper floor of Netherfield, and its disposition with respect to this corner of the house.

"Of course not, Fitzwilliam," she replied, wondering how he could have lived at Netherfield for so many weeks and not know it like the back of his hand. "I had them installed last week."

"And where do they lead?" he asked.

Again, she wondered that this was not obvious, but dutifully replied, "The Master's chambers."

At this, Darcy blushed faintly, and Elizabeth began to think that it had not been so wise to install that staircase after all, given the recent reactions of two Darcy family members.

Then Darcy got a devilish grin on his face, and grabbing her hand tightly, made as if to dash up the stairs.

She pulled her hand away with a jerk, and stamped her foot; but then spoilt the effect by bursting out giggling.

"You are very silly, Fitzwilliam. I copied them from the library stairs at Pemberley. Why do they give the wrong impression here?"

"I was not implying that they give the wrong impression. On the contrary, I was thinking I could have made better use of the stairs at Pemberley, especially when I found you in the library alone."

"Are you always going to be so frisky?" asked Elizabeth.

"I fear it could get much worse once I get you up the aisle."

Darcy would have taken her in his arms again, if there was not a knock at the door, and they jumped slightly apart.

Elizabeth had forgotten she had asked Mrs Fletcher to serve tea half an hour after Mr Darcy arrived.

She rang for Fletcher to find Dr Gregory, while Darcy summoned his footmen to retrieve the strongbox. The donation was duly made and gratefully received, before Dr Gregory hauled the strongbox off to the muniments room.

Mr Darcy retrieved his curly-brimmed beaver and suggested a stroll in the garden with Miss Bennet for old times sake. During this interlude they made vague plans for the future. Elizabeth wished to consult with Dr Gregory regarding the date of arrival of his junior partner from Edinburgh, and what sort of hand-over period would be required before she could wend her way to Derbyshire without guilt.

Although no definite wedding date could be arrived at, Darcy determined there was no time like the present to request Elizabeth's hand from her father and they determined to make the journey back to Longbourn immediately for the fateful audience.

* * *

><p>As they walked down the front steps, Darcy admired Elizabeth's small fine hands as she drew on a pair of brown kid gloves. Darcy would have directed Elizabeth towards his chaise which was waiting under the porte cochère but as they reached the bottom step, a gig appeared driven by a groom and pulled up beside it.<p>

"I must use this Sir, else I will need to beg a lift back," said Elizabeth.

The groom stepped out, and helped Miss Elizabeth in as she gathered her skirts about her. Darcy was then surprised when the groom handed her the whip and did not climb back in himself.

"Well, Mr Darcy, are you coming with me, or shall you follow in your chaise?" asked Elizabeth. "Lydia is playing cards and will return to Longbourn with Mr Jones."

Darcy climbed in beside her and attempted to take the reins.

She rapped him over his knuckles with the handle of her whip.

"Desist, Sir, this is _my_ gig!"

"Is it?" he said looking about him. "When did you learn to drive?"

"Well, at least it is my father's gig," Elizabeth amended. "It is a _Bennet_ gig. I have been driving myself since I started working here at Netherfield."

Darcy motioned for his coach to follow them, then sat rather stiffly as she drove out the front gates. Once it was clear she was not going to overturn them he tried to relax.

Elizabeth watched him covertly out of the corner of one eye. Mr Darcy was still holding the curly-brimmed beaver in one hand. She noticed for the first time that he was sporting a much shorter hair cut than she had ever seen him with before.

"You have cut off all your curls sir. What have you done with them?"

Mr Darcy looked at her in surprise. _Was Elizabeth flirting with him?_

"My valet got tired of taming them and convinced me to try a shorter style."

"What a shame. I am sure that women favour curls."

"Do they?"

"Assuredly. Perhaps it reminds them of puppies and kittens."

Mr Darcy smiled to reveal two beautiful dimples which Elizabeth had never seen before.

"Then of course I will stay my valet's hand in future."

She had also noticed he was wearing a different cravat, having abandoned the frothy muslin of a cravat tied in the waterfall style he had affected for a pressed coloured cravat with a single diamond pin.

"You have also changed the style of your cravat."

"And does that meet your approval?" he asked.

"Indeed, it suits you well. I can only assume that Mr Brummell popularised those elaborate muslin cravats because he has a scrawny neck."

Now Darcy was sure Elizabeth was flirting. He was rather proud of his bull neck.

His smile widened and for the first time Elizabeth could see what pearly white teeth he had.

"I am glad to be a source of amusement to you, Miss Bennet. I fear I have too often been the source of other less pleasant emotions."

He moved slightly in his seat and she became aware that his well-muscled thigh was pressed up against hers. _Was it intentional?_ Men did tend to sit with their legs wide apart, so perhaps he really did need to occupy so much space... Suddenly the seat of the gig which she had previously thought quite capacious seemed a little cramped. He was so warm.

Within no time, they had traversed the three mile distance and were turning into the front gates of Longbourn. Elizabeth felt Darcy stiffen beside her and glancing briefly at him, she saw his air of hauteur had once again descended on him.


	50. Chapter 50

Mr Bennet was standing at the library window sipping port when the gig drove in the front gates of Longbourn.

"Here's your sister Lizzy home, Mary, conveying some gentleman. Make haste and see who our visitor is, will you?"

Mary got up from the ledgers and hurried out.

Upstairs in the sitting room, Mrs Bennet heard the gig drive in the front gates.

"Is that Lizzy, so soon? Oh dear, something must be wrong! I told her not to help lift those soldiers! No doubt she has hurt her back! The women from the village should do that work! Run to the window and see Kitty."

"It is Lizzy, but there is a gentleman with her, mama," said Kitty; "who can it be?"

"One of the soldiers, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not know."

"La!" replied Kitty, "it looks just like that man that used to be with Mr Bingley before. Mr what's-his-name. That tall, proud man."

"Good gracious! Mr Darcy!—and so it does, I vow. What can he be doing with Lizzy?"

By the time Mrs Bennet had arranged the hair under her cap to her satisfaction and come down the stairs, she found Lizzy sitting with Mary in the parlour.

"Did I not see Mr Darcy, Lizzy? Where has he gone?"

"He has some business with Papa. He has gone into the library."

"Whatever can it be? Oh! I do hope it is not bad news from Yorkshire. Perhaps something terrible has happened to Jane or Mr Bingley!"

"Be calm, Mother! Mr Darcy has just come from London. I am sure it is nothing of that nature. Perhaps you should call for tea."

"Tea?" replied Mrs Bennet, "Oh!" Then after a pause: "Hill!"

Shortly after the tea arrived, Mr Darcy appeared in the parlour, and approaching the table where Lizzy was sitting with Mary whispered, "Go to your father, he wants you in the library."

Lizzy had expected this, and after inviting Mr Darcy to sit down to tea with her mother, she was gone directly. But after receiving his cup and saucer from Kitty, Mr Darcy took his tea to the window and proceeded to stare outside, leaving Mrs Bennet to exchange bemused looks with her two remaining daughters.

Lizzy had steeled herself for the following interview. She did not fear her father's opposition, but he was going to be made unhappy; and that it should be through her means—that she, his favourite child, should be distressing him with her choice, was almost more than she could bear.

On entering the library, she found her father walking about the room, looking grave and anxious.

"Lizzy," said he, "what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?"

How earnestly did she then wish that she had kept her former opinions to herself. It would have spared her from explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give; but they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion, of her attachment to Mr Darcy.

"Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane. But will they make you happy?"

"Have you any other objection," said Elizabeth, "than your belief of my indifference?"

"Yes, I do. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but above and beyond that, is this not rather sudden?"

Having confided only in her Aunt Gardiner, Elizabeth was at a loss as to how to describe the emotional journey she had travelled.

"It is not so sudden..." she ventured.

"Hmm?" said Mr Bennet. "When I stated my reservations to Mr Darcy, he said that his feelings were of a longstanding nature; and when I expressed my scepticism, he claimed that he proposed to you at Hunsford."

"What?!" blurted Lizzy.

"So Mr Darcy is telling porkies, is he?" asked Mr Bennet.

"No," said Lizzy thinking furiously, "but I'm surprised he brought that up," she added, then with a flash of inspiration, "since I refused him. Men are so vain!"

Mr Bennet raised his eyebrows at this, but with a twist of his mouth acknowledged it might be so.

"So you have thought deeply about this?" asked Mr Bennet.

"Yes papa, Mr Darcy is a better man than I earlier gave him credit for. I do like him, and I believe he will suit me very well."

"Then you will be relieved to know," said her father, "that I have given him my consent. He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything, which he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband; unless you considered him matched in intelligence to you. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are about."

Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that Mr Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months' suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer her father's incredulity, and reconcile him to the match.

"Well, my dear," said he, when she ceased speaking, "I have no more to say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy."

To complete the favourable impression, she then told him of Mr Darcy's patronage of Dr Gregory.

Mr Bennet was quick to see the association between Dr Gregory's success in setting up his hospital and his Lizzy's current contentment in her new job, but kept his counsel. _Well, well, Mr Darcy. First a piano, and now Netherfield. What next will you be buying for my daughters?_

"Papa, there is one more thing..."

"Yes, my dear?"

"Could you distract mama for a moment so that I can talk to Mr Darcy before he leaves? And would it be possible to wait until he is off the premises before we tell mama?"

Mr Bennet smiled and nodded.

When they walked back into the parlour, he asked Mrs Bennet to attend him in the library.

When they had departed, Lizzy walked Mr Darcy to the front door.

As they stepped off the front porch and proceeded to his carriage, Lizzy whispered, "Proposed to me in Hunsford? You are very unscrupulous, Sir!"

"When I see the prize before me, I find I can be so," replied Darcy.

"Will you stay in Hertfordshire tonight? Dr Gregory will make the Master's chambers at Netherfield available to you."

"I fear not Elizabeth, I did not come expecting to stay, and have not even a valise with me. Tell Dr Gregory I will return in a fortnight for a proper tour. In the meantime, I believe I need to send a notice to the Gazette and apprise a few of my relatives."

"What will Lady Catherine say?"

"It matters not. My uncle is the important one to sway, and I need only mention your gentle birth and dwell on your great beauty to win him over."

"My father was correct. Now you are really telling porkies."

Clasping her dainty right hand between both of his large ones, Darcy brought her hand to his lips. "You undersell yourself, my dear. For a long time I have thought you the handsomest woman of my acquaintance."

Elizabeth blushed, and was trying to think of what to say in reply, but Darcy removed all possibility of this when, instead of planting a kiss on the back of her hand as she had expected, he sucked the tip of her index finger into his mouth up to the first knuckle and ran his tongue around it, before lowering her hand which he retained within his grasp.

Lizzy clenched her toes within her slippers as she stifled a squeak, conscious that Mr Darcy's servants were nearby and Mr Hill behind her.

"Au revoir, Elizabeth," he said, cool as a cucumber.

"Au revoir, Fitzwilliam," she returned, trying to match his sang froid.

Smiling, Darcy climbed into his carriage and rapped upon the roof with his cane, leaving his love standing in the drive.

* * *

><p>Mr Bennet kept Mrs Bennet distracted in his library by going over the household accounts for a good half-hour until he heard the carriage drive away, whereupon he let the cat out of the bag.<p>

On first hearing the news, Mrs Bennet accused Her husband of pulling her leg, and when she finally did believe him, she was unable to utter a syllable for a good two minutes. At length she burst out with:-

"Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true? Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great she will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages she will have! Jane's is nothing to it—nothing at all. I am so pleased—so happy. Such a charming man!—so handsome! so tall!—Oh, my dear Lizzy! I hope he will overlook me having disliked him so much before. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Every thing that is charming! Two daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted."

This effusion could easily be heard in the parlour, and Elizabeth rejoiced that she had the forethought to let her betrothed escape. Kitty and Mary looked at her for confirmation, and upon receiving it, both hugged their sister. Her mother soon appeared to congratulate her daughter in person.

"My dearest child," she cried, "I can think of nothing else! Ten thousand a year, and very likely more! 'Tis as good as a Lord! And a special licence. You must and shall be married by a special licence."

"I think not mama, it will be a long engagement, as I cannot leave the hospital straight away, so we might as well read the banns."

"But my dear, you should get him up the aisle as soon as you may. What if he should change his mind?"

"I do not think there will be a problem with that, mama; and think, you will have more time to plan the wedding."

This idea worked wonders on Mrs Bennet and she immediately set to thinking how she could outdo the effort she had made on Jane's behalf. As Mr Darcy was of twice Mr Bingley's consequence, she was determined the ceremony and reception should reflect that.

* * *

><p>As Darcy wended his way back to London, he contemplated the turn that events had taken. After heading off to Hertfordshire with his cap in his hand, he was returning an engaged man. Would wonders never cease?<p>

Because of the sheer awfulness of his aunt's intervention, all the scenarios that had revolved in his head on his way to Hertfordshire inevitably involved Elizabeth yelling at him, or hitting him with something.

But some other part of his mind had registered the fact that Elizabeth had not abused him to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly. What was it his aunt had quoted? "that your mistress must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine."

_It taught me to hope, _he thought, _as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before_.

He had been more than grateful at how calm Elizabeth had been when he first approached her in the Netherfield library. As soon as she had mentioned marriage, the penny had dropped, and his lips had formed the words of his proposal, before he scarce knew what he was about.

He silently thanked that other part of his brain for having the temerity to take over. _Carpe diem!_


	51. Chapter 51

Arriving back in London, Darcy stopped first at his uncle's townhouse. Descending from the carriage, he instructed the coachman to drive on: there was no point leaving the horses standing in the street when he could easily walk home. His uncle was, of course, not at home, but nor did Darcy expect him to be so. The earl was likely with his mistress in a part of town where the real estate was less expensive. and where one wouldn't run into another three members of the House of Lords by just walking down the street. Darcy left a note requesting an audience then walked back to his townhouse across the square.

When he reached Darcy House, Georgiana appeared at the door, alerted by the servants that the coach had arrived. She had only been roughly apprised of the nature of the crisis before Darcy left for Hertfordshire, since there had been no time for them to talk privately. But she knew that their aunt had tried to interfere in the fragile state of affairs between her brother and Miss Bennet, and was dreading that he would arrive home in a more morbid state than he had achieved at Pemberley after the Gardiner's visit. His face was a mask as he walked in the door and requested a meal be sent to his study, generally not a good sign. She was surprised when he motioned her to follow him into the study; and astonished when after securing the door he grabbed her in a bear hug and said:-

"Wish me happy, Georgie, she said yes."

After receiving the congratulations of his sister, Darcy sat down to pen the notice for the Gazette. He also wrote to Bingley in Yorkshire, telling him the happy news that he, too, had secured a Bennet sister. They were, after all, to be brothers, but not by either of the means previously imagined by his sister, Caroline.

Darcy was contemplating how he should tell his Aunt Evelyn, whether by the pen or in person, when Richard arrived.

"Well?" asked Richard. "Georgie tells me you have good news! Do tell!"

"Where did you spring from?" asked Darcy.

"Georgie sent a footman to the barracks."

"What a blabber!" laughed Darcy.

"How unkind!" said Georgie walking in the door. "Brother wanted to tell you of his engagement."

"Miss Bennet?" asked Richard.

Darcy smiled.

"You dog! How did you achieve it?"

"I have Aunt Catherine to thank. She travelled to Hertfordshire to warn Miss Bennet off, and I was so encouraged by Elizabeth's response that I went off to Hertfordshire to propose."

"Oh come now, brother," said Georgiana, "that is surely the short version. You looked as blue as a megrim when you were heading off this morning."

Over tea and biscuits, Darcy gave a longer version which satisfied Georgiana, and kissing her brother and cousin goodnight, she retired.

Darcy then relayed the unexpurgated version to Richard over brandy.

"When I was at Rosings most recently over this damnable business of her steward, Aunt took me to task for purchasing Netherfield."

"Netherfield? Isn't that the property that Bingley was leasing?"

"Yes, he had the option to buy, but decided to return to Yorkshire. I purchased it instead."

"Trying to get closer to Miss Bennet were you?" jeered Richard.

"In a roundabout way. Elizabeth is interested in medicine. She was working with the local doctor as his assistant when I arrived in Hertfordshire last year."

Richard raised his eyebrows at this. "I don't recall her mentioning medicine once when we were in Kent."

"She had to give it up for various reasons."

"Not really the thing for a gentleman's daughter to be doing anyway."

"Yes, well that was one of them," said Darcy sarcastically, thinking that his cousin resembled his stick-in-the-mud uncle, and completely failing to recognise the revision his own thoughts had undergone over the past year.

"The doctor she was working with is very ambitious. He was looking for a patron to sponsor a hospital in the district. So I purchased Netherfield and made it available to him for a minimal rent on the proviso that he reinstall Miss Bennet as his assistant."

"Well that's rather generous of you, Darce. Seems an expensive way to get on a girl's good side."

"She wasn't meant to know about it. That was one of the conditions I imposed on my patronage."

"Now you have really lost me."

"I wanted to make it up to her - for treating her improperly."

"So you anonymously buy her a hospital. How do I nominate you for sainthood? But I digress...how did aunt get involved in this?"

"She discovered I had purchased Netherfield, and her damn parson told her of my improper offer."

"How the hell did he find out about that?"

"Walls have ears. The outcome was that Aunt concluded that I had purchased Netherfield as a love nest for Elizabeth. So she hies to Hertfordshire, walks into this hospital, and accuses Miss Bennet of being my mistress."

"Oh Lord! When do we commit her to Bedlam?"

"Then she arrives _here_ to chastise me and crow about her efforts."

"So what did you do?"

"I encouraged her to write an apology of sorts and donate a thousand pounds to the hospital."

"Lord!" said Richard, eyes popping. "How did you manage that?"

"It was the thousand I retrieved from her scurvy steward."

"Amazing! Then what happened?"

"Well, I went off to Hertfordshire with my tail between my legs, expecting to be kicked like the cur that I am, and ended up proposing marriage."

"That's incredible. I thought you had wrecked your chances there totally. You've got some gumption coz."

"Not really. It was the way Elizabeth stood up to Aunt Catherine that gave me courage. I guess I realised she wouldn't have bothered if she couldn't care less about me."

"Well, if Napoleon ever escapes from Elba, Darce, I want you to ride across the battlefield in front of me. I believe you are bulletproof."

Darcy laughed and shook his head. "I doubt that will ever happen."

"Well!" said the colonel raising his glass. "To Darcy and Elizabeth! May you have many children!"

They drank and then Darcy popped the question.

"Will you stand up with me?"

"Unless the King orders me elsewhere, I am yours to command," smiled the Colonel.

* * *

><p>Upon retiring, Georgiana had hurried to her bed chamber to write to Elizabeth.<p>

Since the wedding, she had diligently corresponded with Mary, and sporadically with Elizabeth. Her correspondence with Mary had revealed many details of life at Longbourn including the charitable work that Elizabeth and Lydia performed at the hospital, and the preoccupation of Kitty with the still room. Mary also spoke of her own work with the ledgers of Longbourn, but chiefly of which pieces she was now practising on the pianoforte, since this was their chief common interest. Georgiana's correspondence with Elizabeth seemed to be limited to the commonplace, and was not so frequent, but Elizabeth's letters were unreservedly polite and cheerful.

Knowing how Elizabeth spent her days from Mary's letters, Georgiana supposed that she was too busy to write frequently, but still wondered at their impersonal content, until a conversation with Mrs Annersley revealed that such work was considered by some to be unfitting for a lady. Georgiana resolved not to mention it to Caroline Bingley, should she see her. Fortunately she had not visited much lately, and she hoped she would continue to find distraction elsewhere.

Reaching her chamber, Georgiana untied the small bundle of letters from Elizabeth, but upon doing so, realised she had not yet received a reply to her last missive.

So after her maid had prepared her for bed, she instead picked up the larger bundle of correspondence from Mary. She then reread these letters with all the felicity of knowing that these would soon by her sisters. After savouring each detail and imagining herself a participant in each event, she retied the bundle, snuffed the candle, and drifted off to a contented sleep where she too roamed the halls of Longbourn.

* * *

><p>Early in the morning Darcy was summoned for breakfast at Matlock House. The earl was surprised at Darcy's engagement since he was unaware that his nephew had fixed his interest. Indeed his unsocial habits at balls were a great worry to the earl who paled at the thought that the noble line of Darcys which extended back to William the Conqueror, might be extinguished in his lifetime. The Fitzwilliams and the Darcys had a long association in Derbyshire. If it weren't for the fact that he knew his own son frequented Madame Amelie's with his nephew, he might have worried that the sole survivor of unbroken male inheritance in the Darcy line might have interests elsewhere. So the news that Darcy was affianced to a genteel country beauty was welcomed by the earl, and a bottle of champagne was added to the breakfast fare of eggs, ham and fried mushrooms.<p>

Darcy warned his uncle that his sister would not approve of the match, and enlightened him on the nature of his Aunt Catherine's previous interference in Darcy's romance. His uncle thought this hilarious and almost choked on the food in his mouth when he burst out laughing.

"Nothing like a good cat fight, eh?" he said, recovering. "Oh, bugger it! The last thing I wanted to do was to go to Kent today. When is the notice to appear in the Gazette?"

"Tomorrow."

"Hang it! I'd better be there when she reads it, or she might go off on another excursion!"

"Thank you, uncle."

"Yes, well, you know it's just because she wants you for Anne. But that won't wash. If Anne managed to pop a kid, she'd probably expire doing it. Hopefully she'll turn her attention to Richard now. Lord knows I can't give him anything myself. Rosings will do nicely for him."

Darcy wondered if Richard was apprised of this plan.

"Get on with you then," said his uncle, clapping Darcy on his back. "Give my love to Georgie."

Darcy set off across the square with a bounce in his step, knowing the sole remaining hurdle to his happiness had been cleared.

When Darcy arrived home he found his sister partaking of her typical breakfast of hot chocolate and brioche with her companion, Mrs Annersley.

"Morning Georgie, I plan on going to Rundall and Bridge this morning to buy an engagement present for Elizabeth. Are you interested in coming?"

"Yes, please, brother!"

"And I suppose since we are in that part of town, we should finally get round to paying a morning call to the Gardiners..."

"Oh yes, brother! I've been wanting to do so, ever since I visited with Mary and Jane!"

Thus in half an hour, record time for Georgiana, the Darcy coach departed Grosvenor square for Ludgate Hill.

The perusal of the wares in the jewellery store took far longer than Darcy anticipated. Georgiana favoured a beautiful horn peinita, a mantilla comb which she thought would complement Elizabeth's chestnut locks admirably. Darcy did indeed think this beautiful but thought it rather generic. He had hoped to buy something more personal for Elizabeth, perhaps a modest ring or bracelet that matched her ruby cross which could be worn every day; but all the jewellery on display was far too fine and would put the cross in the shade, which was not his intention. He had almost given up when he spied a beautiful cameo depicting Asclepius and Hygiea, and knew he had found just the thing.

"That's a beautiful piece," said the assistant as he removed it from the case and placed it on a tray. "It's a hard cameo: an antique made from onyx, as opposed to the modern ones carved from shell. Likely Roman. It depicts Asclepius, the god of healing and his daughter Hygiea, the goddess of health."

Darcy picked it up. It was quite heavy.

"Just the thing," he replied, "and a suitable short chain, please."

He purchased the comb also, which was wrapped separately as a gift from Georgiana.

The Darcys then made a morning call on the Gardiners in Gracechurch Street. As it was their first call, Darcy only intended to stay the requisite fifteen minutes. The housekeeper quickly summoned Mrs Gardiner, who was in the courtyard playing with the children. She greeted them with a wide grin, having already been apprised of the engagement by a triumphant Fanny through the morning post.

After receiving the expected news from Darcy, Mrs Gardiner invited them to tea. Darcy declined, citing a need to visit his attorney to draw up the terms of the settlements, but encouraged Georgiana to stay: he would leave the carriage for her and take a hackney. Instead, Mrs Gardiner invited Georgiana to stay until her brother returned for her in the Darcy coach, and this was gladly agreed.

Darcy came away from his attorney with an understanding that a draft would be ready for his perusal in three days, and allowing time for corrections and modifications, he determined to set out to Hertfordshire in a week.

When Darcy apprised his sister of his intended movements on their journey home, Georgiana begged to accompany him.

"Unfortunately I will be staying at Netherfield, Georgie. It is a hospital for soldiers. I'm afraid it's not appropriate for you to stay there."

"But I have an open invitation from Mary, brother. I can stay at Longbourn."

"Well, perhaps that is possible. We had best write to our respective hosts and make sure of our welcome."

**I have put images of Elizabeth's presents on the Via Luton board on Pinterest. The link is available on my fanfiction profile. If I get 100 followers for the VL board, I will do one for Sweet Torment.**


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